Cantors Assembly Journal of Synagogue Music

Journal
of

Synagogue
Music

December 1988 . Tevet 5749 . Vol. XVIII . No. 2

From the Editor

Jack Chomsky 3

Articles:

If I Forget Thee

Max Wohlberg 4

Hasidic Music and Modzitz:
A Short Overview

Velvel Pasternak 9

Reflections and Reminiscences

Saul Meisels 16

A Song for the Heart

David Bagley 31

Cantors Assembly in Israel. July 1987

Lippman Bodoff 33

Reviews of New Music

Cradle of Fire, Michael Isaacson
Shaarei Shirah, UAHC

Robert Strassburg 38
Baruch Cohon 39

Music Section

42

Two recitatives by Jacob Rapoport
arr. by Charles Heller:

B'rich Sh'mei

Anenu

43
48

journal of synagogue music, Volume XVIII, Number2

December 1988 1 Tevet 5749

utor : Samuel Rosenbauni

\rd: Stephen Freedman, Paul Kowarsky, Sheldon Levin, Saul
Meisels, Robert Scherr, David Silverstein, Robert Solomon, David Tilman, Abra-
ham Salkov.

officers of the cantors assembly: Solomon Mendelson, President; Robert
Kieval, Vice President; Henry Rosenblum, Treasurer; Chaim Najman, Secre-
tary; Samuel Rosenbaum, Executive Vice President.

journal of synagogue music is a semi-annual publication. The subscription
fee is $15.00 per year. All articles, communications and subscriptions should be
addressed to Journal of Synagogue Music, Cantors Assembly, 150 Fifth Avenue,
New York 10011.

Copyright © 1989, Cantors Assembly

FROM THE EDITOR

This issue of the Journal of Synagogue Music represents, in a sense, the
"first fruits" of my stewardship as Editor. I have sought to encourage my
hazzanic colleagues as well as scholars in related fields to submit materials
for the benefit of our readers. This sort of endeavor takes some time. Happily,
1 am beginning to receive a number of fine personal histories and research
papers. The full flowering of these efforts should be seen in the next issue, but
the benefits can begin to be appreciated in the pages of this issue.

Travel is a theme touched on by several articles. This includes Lippman
Bodoffs appreciation of the Cantors Assembly 40th Anniversary Convention
in Israel, Max Wohlberg's tribute to the music of the Jews of Aleppo after his
trip to Israel, as well as David Bagley's rhapsody over this concert tour of the
Soviet Union with several colleagues during the past year. Also, a fine article
by Velvel Pasternak on hasidic music.

A special piece of this issue is Saul Meisels' autobiographical sketch. This is
a gem of an oral history which will be appreciated by many colleagues. For
young hazzanim like me who did not grow up in a "deeply Jewish" environ-
ment, it provides a glimpse at the genesis of an accomplished hazzan and
leader. For some of our older colleagues, it provides an opportunity to remi-
nisce about times and personalities gone by. At the same time, however, one
can't help but notice that the concerns of Saul Meisel's career from even his
earliest days in Cleveland coincide with the concerns we discuss each time we
convene today.

I want to encourage more of our senior colleagues to pen such autobiogra-
phical sketches. We need to know your stories. And the next time someone
decides to write a book about the American cantorate, your memoirs will
provide a wonderful source of information and inspiration.

You will also find Robert Strassburg's review of Michael Isaacson's "Cra-
dle of Fire" and Baruch Cohon's review of the new Reform hymnal "Shaarei
Shirah: Gates of Song" edited by Charles Davidson.

Finally, our Music Section includes two arrangements by Charles Heller of
recitatives by Rapoport. Thanks to Benjamin Maissner for sending these
along, and to Mr. Heller for his permission to use them.

Enjoy. And write! We need your letters, your papers, your music.

- Jack Chomsky

IF I FORGET THEE.. .

MAX WOHLBERG

The plane leaving Lod Airport, flying westward, seemed to be trying to
keep pace with the morning sun. While it did not quite succeed, it did manage
to extend the daylight hours for an exceedingly long time. Since it flew high
above the clouds. There was nothing in sight to interfere with my thoughts as I
tried to sort out the experiences and impressions of a three-week visit in Is-
rael. These were spent mostly in beautiful, exciting, magical, inspiring
Jerusalem.

One painful sight, the burnt fields — work of vicious arsonists — I saw
between Lachish and Bethlehem. I tried to erase from my memory, but the
annoying vision kept reappearing.

While I cannot possibly name the many friends, colleagues, students, and
interesting people in diverse fields whom I met, neither can I omit mentioning
some, such as the renowned author Chaim Potok with whom I was privileged
to share my journey; Rabbi Yakov Rosenberg, vice-chancellor of the Jewish
Theological Seminary who, I am convinced, is the most beloved Conservative
Jew in the world, and his precious wife Devorah: the fine scholar and author
Abraham Ezra Millgram (Sabbath: Day of Delight Jewish Worship, etc.); the
educator Dr. Shimon Frost, acknowledged authority on Polish Jewry who,
with his wife Peggy, is now teaching at the Hebrew University; and the prom-
inent musicologist Dr. Israel Adler.

Above all, I was overwhelmed by the Eternal City, Jerusalem: its cosmopol-
itanism, its multifaceted society, multilingual population, and its varied inter-
ests. Its newsstands display newspapers in multiple languages (including a
Hungarian Ujkelet).

On the radio, you can hear programs and news reports in Hebrew, English,
French, Yiddish, Arabic and other languages. One of the best news hours, in
perfect Hebrew, that I heard on television, came from Jordan.

Quite unexpectedly I heard on the radio a fine rendition, in Hebrew transla-
tion, of the beautiful Yiddish song, "Margaritkes. "At another time, I heard a
fine baritone intone "Izgeven amol apastuchel. "One late evening, a musicol-
ogist (whose name, alas, escapes me) delivered a fine lecture on the way Shir
Hushitirn is chanted by various Sefardi as well as Ashkenazi communities.

On the streets, you can hear conversations in all languages. I was frequently
delighted to hear Russian.

A visit to Yad Vashem is, of course, expected; a must, and heart-rendering.
The quote from Ezekiel (36 and 37) over the million names of victims, is
poignant in the extreme: "Behold, I will cause breath to enter into you and ye
shall live. And I will take you and gather you from all the lands and will bring
you into your own land."

Many visitors, alas, fail to walk through some of the halls containing paint-
ings and art work by the inmates of the deathcamps. It was especially painful
for me to see paintings by someone with my own given first name (Miklos),
identical in age to me, whose residence was in Budapest and Cluj, cities I
knew so well.

Speaking of art work, in the magnificent Music and Theater Complex in
the Sherover Building, there was an exhibition of recent portraits of Polish
Jews, Holocaust survivors. It is a most impressive collection. The pathetic
surroundings in many of the pictures speak with a tragic eloquence.

Incidentally, the high artistic level of the Israel theater and its musical or-
ganizations fills one with pride. The quality of programs and performance by
the Israel Philharmonic. Jerusalem, Haifa and Tel Aviv symphonies, sundry
chamber orchestras, and choral groups may safely be compared to the best
heard in foremost western capitals.

As for religious institutions, I attended services at the Western Wall, at
Morshet Israel (the Conservative synagogue on Agron Street), the Great Syn-
agogue, Jeshurun, Har El (progressive), and Mevakshei Derech. I also visited
Neveh Schechter where our rabbinic and cantorial students spend one year;
and Hebrew Union College, which has built a most impressive complex.

Meetings and lectures I attended included an Ephros memorial with my
friend, Professor Irving Cohen, as the speaker at Apron Street; a one-sided
debate on the political situation at the Van Lear Institute, two lectures at
Hebrew Union College, two lectures at the (Orthodox) Israel Institute, and a
concert (violin and tenor) of Hebrew, Italian, and Yiddish songs at the Merkaz
Letarbut Amim Lenoat.

It was the Koran which first named us the "Am Hasefer", the people of the
book. It seems to have been a well-chosen appellation, for wherever one turns
in Israel one encounters hooks. Bookstores abound in every direction. Im-
pressive libraries are to he found at Van Lear Institute, at the Museum, at the
universities, and at the Schoeken Institute. The latter deserves a special
article.

A truly inspiring sight was the recent book fair in a Jerusalem public park
with a seemingly endless number of publishers exhibiting (and selling) books
of all sorts. The many stalls were crowded day after day and night after night
by adults and by children, looking at pages of contents, assiduously perusing
volume after volume. And this leads me to the subject I wish to discuss in this

article, a subject which is truly fascinating, the legacy of the Jews of
Aleppo.

For a proper appreciation of this matter, I must preface our discussion with
some comments on the Syrian city of Aleppo and its synagogue. Here, I must
also express my indebtedness to Meir Ronnen for his article: "Crown of
Aleppo," which appeared in the Jerusalem Post on June 17, 1988. and to Z.
Zohar, E. Meyer, and A. Shamosh for their articles in "Treasures of the
Aleppo Community," a bi-lingual pamphlet published by the Israel Museum,
May 1988.

The existence of a Jewish community in Aleppo dates back to the 4th cen-
tury B.C.E., the period of the Second Temple. The main synagogue is named
after Joab Ben Zeruiah, commander-in-chief of King David's military forces,
who built here a commemorative fortress, remains of which are still believed
to exist.

After the close of the Talmudic period and a subsequent Islamic conquest,
the community was firmly established. Life between the 7th and 10th centur-
ies was fairly peaceful. With the advent of the 1 1th century, Aleppo became
known as a center of scholarship. Maimonides praised it for its devotion to
study. One of his scholarly pupils settled here. In the 12th century, considera-
ble immigration took place. The noted traveler. Judah Al-Harizi (1217),
speaks highly of the local Jewry. The Mongolian and later Mameluk invasions
of 1260, 1300, and especially 1400, disrupted the generally peaceful life of
the populace, but with the influx of coreligionists from Spain, and during the
Ottoman and following French occupations, the situation improved.

Yeshivot were established and a fairly prosperous community thrived. In
the 18th and 19th centuries, however, as new centers of trade and trade routes
developed, economic deterioration took place. The 20th century witnessed a
period of mass emigration. Currently, it is estimated that of the approximately
18,000 Jews who lived in Aleppo 40 years ago, only about 700 are left.

As to their synagogue, a magnificent Byzantine structure, it dates back to
the 5th century (C.E.) making it the oldest functioning synagogue in the
world. It is a most remarkable building containing seven Arks, one named the
"Cave of Elijah", three bimot (pulpits), two large prayer halls, and a large
courtyard with a bimuh. Scrolls and crowns are kept in the various Arks.
Following Israel's Declaration of Independence, riots broke out and on De-
cember 1, 1947, the building was damaged by fire.

Prior to the fire, however, a most fortuitous event took place. Sarah Sham-
mah, a local housewife, had the sudden (and for us, fortunate) desire to have
the synagogue photographed from every possible angle, covering every nook
and cranny. For this purpose, she engaged a well-known, talented Armenian
photographer. The latter lived up to his reputation, and Mrs. Shammah, who

now lives in Israel, cherished these pictures in the privacy of her home.

These masterful photos, now beautifully enlarged, next to an exquisitely-
constructed wooden replica of the synagogue were exhibited in June and July
1988 in the Israel Museum in Jerusalem, surrounding what to me, as a Jew
and a Hazzan, is one of the most precious objects in the world.

Here reference must be made to a seemingly remote subject which, how-
ever, is the hub of my story. The subject of cantillation has been dealt with by
many musicians and musicologists, but still remains somewhat nebulous in
the minds of many otherwise well-informed people.

It is generally acknowledged that our system of Biblical cantillation is
based on the work of one Aaron Ben-Asher who lived in Tiberias in the 10th
century. It is a fact that Maimonides. in his Mishnah Torah, (section A havah
HilchotSefer Tor ah 8:4) refers to Ben-Asher's work as the authentic version
on which he relies. It is also a well-established fact that over a thousand years
ago. one Shlomo Ben-Buya wrote down the complete Bible as we have it
today. This carefully written text was then critically examined, verified, vocal-
ized, and provided with the signs of cantillation by Ben-Asher, the last and
most prominent member of the Ben- Asher dynasty. This became the "Textus
Receptus", our Holy Bible. As Amnon Shamosh puts it: "A time-honored tra-
dition invests the codex with a unique aura of authority, reverence and holi-
ness." It is believed that the codex (called Keter by our Syrian brothers) is the
first complete manuscript of the Bible ever written and represents the final
codification of the Masoretic text.

Written in Palestine in the early 10th century, it most likely was looted and
taken to Egypt at the end of the 1 1 th century where it stayed until the end of
the 14th century, when it was returned to Aleppo. There it was jealously
guarded in the synagogue's Cave of Elijah.

It should be noted here that in 1943, Judah L. Magnes and Ben-Zvi (later
president of Israel) sent Yizhak Shamosh to Aleppo to try to persuade the
elders of the community to have the codex moved to Jerusalem. The elders
declined to part with it. On a second mission, Shamosh received permission to
have the renowned Biblical scholar Moshe David Cassuto examine and study
the codex. At the end of 1943, Cassuto did so, but regrettably died shortly
thereafter before he could organize his notes.

As a result of the fire in 1947, only 295 of the original 487 leaves survived.
These were safely concealed by the elders for ten years, when they authorized
one Mordechai Faham to smuggle them out of the country into Turkey. This
was accomplished after Israel's Sephardic Chief Rabbi invalidated the curse
which applied to the codex: "Cursed be he who steals it, sells it, or mortgages
it. It may never be sold or redeemed."

On January 23, 1958, it was brought to Jerusalem, deposited at the Ben-Zvi

Institute where it is preserved to this day. Recently, agreement was reached
with the Israel Museum to have it exhibited there during the period described
above.

Opened at Jeremiah (23-25) and resting on a glass-covered stand, this
beautifully written, historically invaluable, miraculously-surviving manu-
script could be observed and studied. One's appreciation of this ancient vo-
lume is heightened when one reads such an item as appeared on the front
page of the New York Times on July 10, 1988: "Hundreds of paintings, decora-
tive art objects, and artifacts that the New York Historical Society is storing in
a deterioration that some may be permanently lost."

Standing in awe and admiration before this sacred masterpiece, I expe-
rienced no difficulty in following text, vocalization and signs of cantillation.
The tropes are clear: Kol (mahpach) sason (pashto) v'kol (munach) simcha
(kalon) Kol (meirhai chakin (lipcha) v'kol (lmtiutch) kalah (etnachta).

A verse from Psalms occurs to me: "A thousand years are as yesterday in
Thy sight." These millenium-old signs are as fresh as those of yesterday. And
I silently utter a shehecheyanu for the privilege granted me.

With closed eyes, I silently pray for this City of God, where beauty and
history, mystery, and inspiration intermingle, creating a Heavenly Presence;
where the impossible is commonplace, the miraculous routine, and where
man may reach angelic heights. As I pray for this blessed land, three words
from Jeremiah appear in my thoughts and on my lips: Yisrael yishkon lavetach.
may Israel dwell in security.

And I close with a gentle, "Amen."

HASIDIC MUSIC AND MODZITZ
A SHORT OVERVIEW

VELVEL Pasternak

Among the many legends which serve to highlight the unique position of
song in Hasidic life is the story concerning Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sassov
known to the world as the Sassover Rebbe. This rebbe took upon himself the
duty of financially assisting poor brides and attending their weddings. At the
nuptial ceremony of an orphaned bride the processional melody so impressed
him that he openly expressed the wish that this same tune accompany his
burial.

Many years later the rebbe died and hundreds of hasidim journeyed from
all parts of eastern Europe to accompany this sainted being to his eternal rest.
At a crossroad, the funeral cortege beheld a group of musicians on its way to
perform a wedding. With unexpected suddenness their horses broke and gal-
loped off into the distance. When the procession arrived at the entrance of the
cemetery it was met by the same group of musicians. Because they assumed
that the klezmer had come to jest, the hasidim were angered. Suddenly a very
old hasid remembered the rebbe' s wish of long ago that a specific tune be
played at his burial. There was consternation among the group, for hundreds
of years of Jewish tradition proclaimed that no music be played at a funeral. A
rabbinic court (bet din) was hastily formed and after serious deliberation
issued its tradition-shattering verdict that the wish of the Sassover rebbe be
honored. The old hasid was asked if he could recall the nigun and he sang
several bars to the musicians. They took up the strains of the melody and the
rebbe was laid to rest with the same tune that had accompanied an orphaned
bride many years before.

Of all the stories related to Hasidic music emanating from the Masters, no
other story has quite the force and emotional appeal for the musician as the
one related above. The reason is that in this instance the musician's wish and
dream that music indeed become paramount in all devotional and philosophic
postures is fulfilled in the existential encounter of man in the face of his ulti-
mate position in life, namely his death. Thus music for Hasidim. is not only the
accompanying motif of one's life but the companion of the hasid' s eternal
journey. The soul, in returning to its original source, the Maker, is ascending
to the strains of a melody.

10

The Baal Shem Tov (1700- 1760), founder of the Hasidic movement, arrived
on the East European scene at a time when Jewish morale was extremely low.
The long-awaited and hoped-for Messiah in the person of Sabbtai Zvi had
proven false, and Jews had been left despondent and totally disheartened. The
Jewish community was divided, so to speak, into a caste system, the Torah
scholars heading the list, the non-learned individuals at the bottom. The Baal
Shem Tov realized that this system and the general depressed mood of the
Jewish community made Judaism unappealing and divided the community. A
system had to be developed within whose framework the lowly unlearned as
well as the scholar could feel assured of worth and dignity. The movement
which he founded, a movement appealing to the masses, was the answer.

The system of prayers, ritual observance of mitzvot and muusim tovim had
by his time, become an arid and lackluster habit. The return to a meaningful
and vibrant Judaism, he felt, must contain an ingredient too long denied it.
The ingredient was simhu (joy), and it became the cornerstone of the Hasidic
movement, Had not the Psalmist said "Serve the Lord with joy, come before
Him with singing"?

The Baal Shem Tov insisted that a revitalized Judaism must do away with
the existing self-imposed custom of fasting, the wearing of sack cloth, and the
denial of worldly things. Since he believed that a lively and joyous manner
was more acceptable to God than asceticism, melancholy and morbidity were,
to him, sinful. "Only through simhu can we attain communion with God," he
said. He also realized that when one is happy he views life through a bright
and clear looking-glass. He therefore returned to Judaism the joy of living and
the vision of a new world and a new people: a people of sason v' simha, ahava
v' ahava (joy and gladness, brotherhood and fellowship).

The Besht, while he founded a movement, in no way minimized or dis-
carded any of the spiritual foundations which had become part of Judaism
during its early development, This is especially true of the nigun, which could
serve to warm the heart and spirit and bring unbounded joy. Hasidism knew
the power of the nigun, that it had within itself the ability to purify and bind
together the soul and to elevate it to great heights. This also was not a new
thought, for it had already been stated by the Kabbalists: "Access to certain
temples can be achieved only through song."

From the many writings, legends and stories of his followers, we learn that
song was a natural part of the Baal Shem Tov's body and soul. We find that he
spent much time in the fields among the shepherds, and doubtless absorbed
many of their melodies which he regarded as possessing a nitzutz shel k' dusha
(a spark of holiness). The strains of shepherd melodies evident in this music in
no way harmed the sanctity of the melody, for the essence of a nigun, accord-
ing to Hasidism, is the sound, and if the sound is derived from impure sources,

11

there is a duty to elevate, purify and sanctify it until it is worthy of the respon-
sibility for which it was created. Like the zealous Christians of the Middle
Ages, some Hasidic leaders considered it a holy duty to use secular tunes for
sacred purposes. Many leaders felt that this was a greater virtue than creating
an original melody.

The act of making the secular holy had long been common to Jews of the
diaspora. Influenced by the surroundings of their "host" countries, they bor-
rowed liberally such items as language, taste in foods and clothing. That
which they adopted however was also adapted and given meaning within a
Jewish framework. Thus, for example, functional Russian and Polish head-
gear created for winter wear, the shtreimel, became infused with religious
meaning, while the frock coat was modified and transformed into the kupote.
It was quite natural then that nationalistic and folk melodies of the host cul-
ture should find its way into the Jewish repertoire.

Those who opposed Hasidism, and many music scholars who made little
effort to understand the soul of Hasidic music, never failed to emphasize that
foreign elements can be found within its melodies. However, even the bor-
rowed motifs never remained as they had been originally. They were re-
worked and reshaped into a new form, the form of the hasid. From this a new
melody resulted born of spiritual Judaism, which became the individualistic
melody known as the Hasidic nigiin.

The majority of the early hasidic songs had no words. Such wordless songs
are not overly common to any other people. There are to be sure, modem
songs which have wordless interludes and many of the classic art songs too,
have such moments. In addition, one can find this type of singing among some
African groups and of course, in a number of nursery songs for children.
Among the Hasidim this type of song is a special favorite. Songs without
words but full of religious ecstasy were created on the premise that a song
without words is much better than one with words. King David of old had
stated this premise: "Words alone cannot relate the greatness of God." "Mel-
ody is the outpouring of the soul," said the first Lubavitcher Rebbe. "Words
interrupt the stream of emotions." A melody with text, according to him, is
limited in time, for with the conclusion of the words the melody, too, comes to
an end. But a tune without words can be repeated endlessly.

As one will readily acknowledge it becomes extremely difficult to produce
melodic lines for any sizeable lengths of time with closed mouth humming.
This is especially true of metrical melodies, In order to fill the need created by
the absence of text, the Hasidim invented a group of vocalized syllables which
aided in the production of the song. The syllables comprised of "bim bam,"
'yadi-da-di," "aha aha, " "oy vey" etc. had no order or specific pattern. The
singer was at liberty to vocalize as he felt the mood of the music itself. It was

12

common practice for various Hasidic groups to accept a specific group of
vocalized syllables. Thus, the Lubavitcher Hasidim sing with different sylla-
bles than, let us say, the Hasidim of Ger. It sometimes becomes easy, there-
fore, for a musicologist to pinpoint the area of origin and the general author-
ship of a song on the basis of the syllables employed.

It is worth noting that the musical compositions of the first Hasidim were
not distinguished by their length. They were, in the main, short with few sec-
tions. Chabad expanded on this by adding to the typical nigun several move-
ments. Polish Hasidim went further in lengthening the nigun, and this style
was then taken over by Galicia, until some nigunim became so lengthy that
they were given the title 'operas.' (See below.)

Basically, Hasidic nigunim can be placed within three distinct categories.
(Latter-day Hasidim added several other types.) The three are the rikkud
(dance), the tish nigun (song sung at the rebbe's table) and the dveykut (slow
and rapturous melody). The earliest dances were usually in an A B C B form,
that is to say, a three section song with the second section repeated. Many of
them were in the major scale and even those in the minor had a happy lilt to
them. These dances would sometimes last as long as half an hour, until the
dancers would be spent or would introduce a new melody. The rikkud was
also used at the tish and the synagogue service as a nigun applied to some
religious text.

The tish song is a long, slow, meditative melody sung at the rebbe's table,
usually not by him but by his son or one of the Hasidim. The nigun has several
parts, often in varying moods, with a refrain appearing toward the end. Be-
tween sections may be found a WOlloch which is often characterized by colo-
ratura like the sound of a shepherd playing his flute. The dveykut melody is a
slow, introspective, soul- stirring song, usually lengthy and sung with deep
feeling. Hasidim often sang this type of song when they were absorbed at the
study-desk just before the rebbi would begin his Torah discourse.

As Hasidism developed, two other styles were employed, the march and the
waltz. Hasidim came into contact with the military and were wont to hear and
absorb the various march melodies. In like fashion the waltz was permeating
European society. It is true that militaristic songs were quite foreign to the
entire spirit of Judaism at the time. They also did not have much opportunity
to engage in ballroom-type dancing. Placed in the mouths of Hasidim how-
ever, these melodies became true Hasidic nigunim

With regard to these borrowed motifs and styles, it is worthwhile to re-
member that Hasidim created their music in foreign cultures and that no crea-
tion can be called original if it does not grow in its national homeland. Only
through the spiritual homeland which the Hasidim created were they able to
infuse into some of these foreign currents an individual soul. With less success

13

later on did Hasidim, notably those of Ger and Kotzk, make use of the melo-
dies of Schubert, Chopin and Verdi. That these melodies have been com-
pletely forgotten by the Hasidim is the best indication that they did not lend
themselves to a reworking into the Hasidic mold.

Most of the original Hasidic melodies were composed by the rebbes them-
selves. Those leaders who did not possess the ability to create music ap-
pointed talented Hasidim to compose new nigunim. It was their duty to study
the mood, emotions and thoughts of the rebbe and give utterance to them
through song. The court-created melody was usually credited to the Hasidic
dynasty. Some rebbes were opposed to tunes from "yesterday." The Tzadik of
Kuzmir (1806- 1856) proclaimed that a Sabbath without a new nigun was not
truly a Sabbath. Following their inspiration, the Hasidim would invent new
meditations and set them to tunes.

Rather amazingly, a specific nigun could, within a relatively short period of
time, become well-known throughout a large area of eastern Europe. Each
major dynasty had its own "court," as the residence of the rebbe was known.
Devotees of various leaders would often travel great distances by foot or
primitive transportation, leaving family and home, to spend the festivals or the
high holidays in the rebbe' s court. There in the presence of the rebbe and in
the midst of joyous fellowship the Hasid would forget his daily worries and
anxieties and could, at the conclusion of his stay, return home spiritually
revitalized.

It was on the Sabbath and festivals during the services and at the communal
meals that new melodies were introduced and old ones resung. By means of
constant repetition the melodies were learned by the Hasidim and most of
them returned home equipped to introduce the nigunim to family, friends and
neighbors. Thus, without being written down, these songs became familiar
throughout the entire Jewish pale of eastern Europe. That so many songs have
come down to this day in this oral manner is truly wondrous.

Nowhere within Hasidism did music assume a greater role than in the dyn-
asty of Modzitz. Music and Modzitz became synonymous. In his book, Lahas-
idim Mizmor. (Jerusalem 1955) the eminent authority on the music of the
Hasidim, M.S. Geshuri, compares the city of Modzitz and its influence on the
musical life of eastern European Jewry to Bayreuth and its affect on the devo-
tees of Richard Wagner. The music of the Modzitzer rebbes became well
known and beloved in almost every city and hamlet in which Jews could be
found. The Modzitzer rebbes, unlike many of their predecessors did not en-
gage in "miracle workings," nor did they formulate new ideas or philosophies
within Hasidism. They did, however, create a true spiritual center, a center
built primarily on music. Although small in comparison to such grand courts
as Ger, Lubavitch, Sanz, Belz and others, the name Modzitz became a house-

14

hold word throughout the Jewish pale.

Modzitzer philosophy gives reasons for its emphasis on music. The rebbes
pointed to the word "haboher" as found in the texts preceeding the Barkhu
prayer of the Shaharit service and in the blessings recited immediately before
the reading of the haftarah. In the first instance the text reads "haboher b'shi-
rey zimra" (Blessed art Thou o Lord our God who art pleased with songs and
hymns); the second text contains the words "haboher batora" (Blessed art
Thou o Lord our God who hast chosen the Torah). These two "habohers,"
Torah and neginah together became the foundation of the Modzitz dynasty
and its contribution to Hasidism.

Modzitz Hasidism was founded by Rabbi Israel Taub, (b. 1848, Ratcoinz,
Poland; d. 1920, Warsaw, Poland.) In 1888, upon the death of his father,
Rabbi Samuel Eliyahu of Zvolyn, he assumed the leadership of Kuzmir-
Zvolyn Hasidim. In 1891 he settled in Modzitz and resided there until the
outbreak of World War I in 19 14, when he fled to Warsaw. He remained there
until his death. Rabbi Israel was also known as the Baal Divrey Yisrael (after
the book of Torah commentaries) which he wrote. Rabbi Israel's output of
nigunim came to more than two hundred. Many of his melodies are still sung
today by all Hasidic groups the world over. One of his most famous, the
"Heimloz Nigun" (the Song of the Homeless, also sung to the text of Psalm
123) has become a classic. In it the rebbe expresses musically the feelings of a
Jew torn from his home due to war.

His most famous nigun is the "Ezk'ru Hagadol"(the Great Ezk'ra). Hasidic
legend relates the following with regard to its creation.

In 19 13 the rebbe traveled to Berlin for medical treatment. His doctors felt
that his life could be saved only through the amputation of a leg. While await-
ing the operation the rebbe could see the surrounding Berlin area through the
window next to his bed. The architecture and color of the buildings was re-
miniscent of certain parts of Jerusalem and the poem "Ezk'ru Elohim" written
about the holy city and recited during the closing service on Yom Kippur
came to his mind. The rebbe agreed to the operation but with the proviso that
no form of anesthesia be used. During the removal of his leg he composed this
majestic and lengthy nigun comprised of 36 sections each contrasting in na-
ture. This nigun is sung by Hasidim each year on the rebbe' s yahrzeit (anniver-
sary of death) both in Israel and the United States. The complete notation of
the nigun which takes approximately one half hour to sing, may be found in
Bais Kuzmir, MS. Geshuri, Jerusalem, Israel.

Rabbi Israel's love for music also found expression in a number of his pub-
lished maamorim (sayings). One especially is rather remarkable for a Hasidic
rebbe. In "Divrey Yisrael" he compares man's ascent on the ladder of life to a
musical scale. Just as the eighth tone is a repetition of the root tone one octave

higher, so too, he says, is man's climb through life. Although he progresses
ever higher, becoming complacent in his achievement, he must be aware that
utlimately he must return to the root.

Rabbi Saul Yedidya Elozor Taub, the second Modzitzer Rebbe was born in
1886 in Ozorow, Poland. He assumed the leadership of Modzitz Hasidim in
1920. From 1940 until 1947 the rebbe resided in the United States where he
traveled extensively bringing Torah and neginah to many communities. Rabbi
Saul was the most prolific Hasidic composer of all time with the total output
numbering more than 700 compositions. Because of his prodigious creation it
was not uncommon for many to assume that he had been trained musically. In
his book, "Yiddishe Musik in Poilen"(Jewish Music in Poland-between the two
wars), Yisacher Fater states that Rabbi Saul Taub was a " geniter noten
leyener" (a proficient music reader) and had also been a student of music
theory. This is innacurate. No Modzitzer rebbi had any musical training what-
soever. Rabbi Saul's melodies which appear in several publications were in-
itially notated by Cantor Joshua Weisser and later on by Ben Zion Shenker, a
Modzitzer Hasid, who became the "musical secretary" for Rabbi Saul.

The second Modzitzer Rebbe was, in a true sense, a composer. His nigunim
were not merely the simplistic folk type melodies of many of his predecessors.
A number of them were intricate, musically structured and quite lengthy. He
thought in terms of instrumental colorations and often suggested that accom-
paniment of strings, winds and horns would enhance his nigunim. In rather
naive fashion both he and his father referred to some of their lengthier com-
positions as "operas." To this day Hasidim sing these nigunim as the "ershte
opera " (the first opera), the "tzveite opera" (second opera) and so on.

In keeping with a tradition established by his father, Rabbi Saul created
new melodies for the Hallel text B'tzet Yisrael which recounts the Exodus from
Egypt. The style was varied for each festival celebration so that the rikkud
march or waltz form would be employed. The rebbe was especially fond of
march tempi although as a practical matter the Jews of the ghetto had little
use for militaristic sounding melodies. When Hasidim questioned both the
composition and singing of such march tunes by a people without country,
flag or military, the rebbe' s prophetic response was that a Jewish State would
soon come into being and marches would also be needed.

The third Modzitzer Rebbi, Rabbi Samuel Eliyahu Taub, (b. 1906, Lublin
Poland, d. 1985,) emigrated in 1935. He continued the tradition of Modzitz
both as a composer and Torah scholar. He succeeded his father in 1947 and
composed more than 400 nigunim. He is also the author of a collection of
Torah essays found in the Journal, Kuntres Tiferes Yisroel Tel Aviv, Israel.
Rabbi Samuel was the spiritual head of several Modzitzer synagogues in Is-
rael and in Brooklyn. His nigunim are sung throughout Israel and many of
them have appeared on records.

REFLECTIONS AND REMINISCENCES

Saul MEISELS

J.L. Peretz describes in one of his stories, "A Gilgulfun a Nigun, " the power
of a musical thread to weave itself into the lives and dreams of those who hear
it and leave a lasting imprint on their soul. So is it with religious chant. From
the moment it entered my subconscious it became a force that seemed to
direct my very existence and destiny.

Born in Mosti Vielke, Poland, and reared under the observant tutelage of
my sainted father, a hassidic ba' al t'filah, I soon absorbed from him the beauty
and piety of the music of the synagogue. I can still recall, when I was little, my
father buying me a brick to place in the cornerstone of the new synagogue of
the hassidim of the Belzer tzaddik. From my father I learned the fundamentals
of nusah, and although 1 do not consider myself a hassid, I nevertheless feel
that I still bring to my chanting a great deal of hassidic fervor.

I came to the United States when I was twelve and soon began to sing as a
"boy soloist" with some of the outstanding cantors of that time — Yossele
Rosenblatt, Berele Chagy, Mordecai Herschman, etc. Max Nadler was the
choir director then at many of the synagogues. I also recall singing alto in the
choir at the Clinton Street Shul where Yisroel Schorr officiated, as with Yeho-
shua Lind who followed him. The music was taught to us by rote by a brother
of the celebrated Abraham Ellstein, who was later followed by the gifted Max
Helfman.

Many were the days I would stand in the street with a group of people,
listening to and drinking in the magnificent voices of celebrated hazzanim
whose recordings were being blared over a loudpeaker. Few people could
afford a phonograph in those days, and so the only means of hearing these
eloquent chants was to congregate in front of the record store.

My contacts with Max Helfman proved most providential for me and led to
the awakening of my musical life. We went to concerts together at Carnegie
Hall, attended art museums and listened to great music wherever it was being
performed. He took me under his wing and taught me solfege by making me
sing the lieder of Schubert and Schumann via the names of the notes, not the
words. He taught me harmony, composition and conducting, until I became
proficient enough to be sent as his substitute to several of his choruses. At that
time I also attended New York University and received my vocal training
from Paul Reimers of the Juilliard School of Music.

HAZZAN SAUL MEISELS is a past president of the Cantors Assembly and served for 37 years
as Cantor of Temple on the Heights in Cleveland. This article, as does virtually everything in his
long and distinguished career, reflects the collaboration of his wife, Ida Meisels.

17

At first I began to sing on radio station WEVD in New York, sharing my
songs with commercials by Zvee Scooler about the "glentzendike geshmake"
peanut oil. Scooler eventually went on to Hollywood to appear in several
films.

I then began preparing for a concert career. My first concert, scheduled for
the 92nd St. "Y" in Manhattan, was to be a program of Yiddish folk and art
songs in costumes that would depict each character. We had discovered a
wonderful artist, Moi Solotaroff (whose son went on to become a leading
contemporary artist), who proceeded to paint watercolor sketches of my cos-
tumes, which he also designed. Benjamin Zemach, one of the founders of the
celebrated Habima Company in Russia, became my choreography mentor
and tutored me in movements that made each character of the song seem to
come alive. Max Helfman wrote the accompaniments for the songs. We spent
the summer in his cabin in the Adirondacks preparing for the concert.

Finally the night of the concert came and, during the intermission, there
was a knock at my dressing room. When I opened it, there stood Victor Chen-
kin, world-renowned master of the folksong style. He came into the room,
spoke encouragingly, and handed to me two original songs which he said
were from his own repertoire. "You will be the next one to follow in my
place," he declared. I like to think that history has proven him to be correct,
because I went on to become a popular singer of Jewish folk and Hebrew
music, concertizing throughout the United States, Canada and Israel, as a
leading interpreter of Yiddish song.

Our concerts carried us over great distances. In Canada, for example, our
WIZO commitments took us from Nova Scotia in the east to Moose Jaw,
Calgary and Regina in the west. I was an artist for the Jewish Welfare Board's
Concert Bureau, and appeared for many major organizations in the United
States. In 1965, after a concert for the Hadassah Convention at the Waldorf
Astoria Hotel in New York, Hubert H. Humphrey, then Vice-President of the
United States, who was present that evening, wrote: "My compliments to you
on your inspiring recital and magnificent renditions."

My accompanist was a young and talented girl whom I had met while
attending an organ recital. We were introduced by a mutual friend who sug-
gested that I use her as my accompanist. This soon led to marriage. Ida has
been accompanying me ever since! Ours has been a wonderful union of love
and music. Together we embarked on a concert career which involved drag-
ging heavy suitcases of costumes along with us to the various cities where we
appeared for our folksong recitals. Needless to say, we soon abandoned the
costumes and decided to place the emphasis on delineating the characters
through voice and movement. I am sure Victor Chenkin would have
approved.

18

My first cantorial position was at the Astoria Center of Israel, in Long
Island, where I remained for four years, until Professor A. W. Binder, the
well-known composer and musicologist, urged me to accept a vacant post in
Cleveland, Ohio. Temple on the Heights was then one of the largest Conser-
vative congregations in the United States. How well I recall our qualms at
leaving our friends and family to "journey west."

One evening we were visited by Moshe Rudinov, the distinguished cantor
of Temple Emanu El in New York, who urged us to pursue the opportunity in
Cleveland. So in 1942, we packed up and moved there, where we remained
happily for thirty-seven years. I have to smile when I remember that my be-
ginning salary was $3,000 a year (depression times). This was soon supple-
mented with concerts though, and we found much happiness and fulfillment
there.

Upon coming to Cleveland, I began to put into effect changes in the music
curriculum of the Hebrew School and the synagogue choir, it was an arduous
schedule. The Hebrew School had over five hundred pupils, the confirmation
assemblies numbered over 150, there was Cantor's Club (a group of about
forty or fifty young boys and girls who also officiated at the Sabbath Morning
children's services). I produced numerous cantatas, such as Judith Eisenstein's
"Seven Golden Buttons," "What is Torah," a first performance of Arthur Yol-
koff s "Shirat Atideynu," and so on. There were also adult choirs and large
Sisterhood choir.

But my greatest pride was in the synagogue choir, a group of highly trained
professional singers from whom I demanded most intensive rehearsals. I was
fortunate to have not only a superb choir but also an appreciative congrega-
tion, who gave me the freedom and the resources necessary to exercise my
musical aspirations. Early in my career I began to realize that our Shabbat
services deserved more than the routine traditional chanting of the prayers. I
was filled with an unquenchable desire to express these prayer chants in a
manner which would give greater meaning to our sacred texts. The "gilgul"
that musical soul within me, was struggling for still greater expression and
this yearning, this impulse, this need to seek out and develop fresh and innova-
tive musical idioms for our religious prayers, has stimulated and given both
direction and impetus to my life.

I have always felt that the responsibility of a hazzan towards the syn-
agogue's musical traditions is not only to safeguard them but to enhance and
add to them the colors and nuances of the time in which we live. Toward this
end, I sought out the most gifted composers of our time and commissioned
them to write music that was at once moving, inspiring and exalted. With the
financial help of a number of concerned friends and encouraging congregants,
I established grants, subsidies and prizes for the creation of new music.

19

Through these commissions and their gala performances, some profound con-
tributions to synagogue music were created, and more than a dozen new
works were added to the treasure-house of synagogue music.

Every year the celebration of Jewish Music Month became the vehicle for
the presentation of an important new work, and each five-year anniversary of
my coming to serve in Temple on the Heights became the occasion for the
commissioning of a new service. One of the most memorable of these oc-
curred in 1967, my twenty-fifth anniversary, and celebrated Israel's success in
the Six-Day War. At that time I had journeyed to Israel to make arrangements
with Shlomo Kaplan, head of the Israel Composers League, who would select
the composers to write the first Sabbath Eve Service to come out of Israel
since the creation of the Jewish state. "Shabat Mitzion" was the result of this
commission, written by fourteen of Israel's leading composers.

Those collaborating on this historic project included: Mordechai Ze'ira
(Mah Tovu), Yehezkiel Braun (Psalm 98), Leib Glantz (L'Cha Dodi), Marc
Lavry (Mizmor Shir L'Yom Hashabat), Shlomo Hoffman (Bar'chu), Nissan
Cohen-Melamed (Ahavat Olam), Emanuel Amiran-Pugatchov (Sh'ma Yis-
rael and V'Ahavta), Leib Glantz (Mi Chamocha), Benyamin Bar-Am (Hash-
kiveynu), Emanuel Amiran-Pugatchov (V'Sham'ru), lssachar Miron (Kad-
dish), Menachem Avidom (Interlude and May the Words), Efrayim Ben-Haim
(Magen Avot), Karel Salomon (Kiddush), Moshe Wilensky (Aleynu L'Sha-
beyach), and lssachar Miron (Adon Olam).

Miron, who guided this service from its inception and had himself com-
posed two major settings for it, came to Cleveland for the world premiere and
conducted his own compositions. In the program notes for the performance he
wrote: "When those heavenly windows which respond only to the sound of
music are opened, Cantor Saul Meisels will be the fortunate one to earn the
merit for raising his voice to the Kingdom on High in the sacred melodies of
the Israel Sabbath Service, which was composed with his encouragement and
in his honor." Other conductors who participated in this gala premiere were
Lazar Weiner, A.W. Binder, and Sholom Secunda.

The Cleveland Plain Dealer' S music editor wrote: "The music of this service
revealed a new, fresh melodic and harmonic treatment of the synagogue
chants, while infused with a religious fervour and the dignity, peace and
beauty of the Sabbath. Inspiration for these prayers was drawn mainly from
Oriental tradition, combined sometimes with the East European styles used
mainly in the American synagogue." The late Jochanan Boehm, music editor
of Israel's Jerusalem Post, commented: "With so many diverse traditions to
select from, the Israeli composer has a fount of inspiration unequalled any-
where in the world. But the biblical texts here are performed only on the
concert stage, and the music is conceived as essentially secular. . . With this

20

lack of encouragement from Israeli religious circles, and it does not look as if
it will ever change," he said, "the attitude of American Jewish communities,
and especially of the cantors who are their musical spokesmen, is all the more
welcome."

There were many other commissions. Of all the compositions composed for
"Shabbat Mitzion," the setting of Psalm 98 by Yehezkiel Braun was so effec-
tive that, in my ever-continuing search for new creative talent, I invited him in
1966 to compose a complete service for the Sabbath Eve. "Arvit L' Shabbat"
was the result; a beautiful service, permeated with the sound and mood of
Jewish prayer and the very air of Israel. The guest conductor that evening was
Franz Bibo, conductor of the Oberlin College Conservatory Orchestra. In
1972 we repeated it, this time with orchestral accompaniment by a 33 piece
chamber orchestra, and sung by a large festival choir. The conductor was Dr.
Samuel Adler of the Eastman School of Music.

One of my earliest commissions was to Gershon Ephros in 1962, the re-
vered cantor of Congregation Beth Mordecai in Perth Amboy, N.J., who
wrote "S'lichot, Midnight Penitential Service." This was subsequently per-
formed by myself and my choir on NBC coast-to-coast television on the ad-
vent of the high holidays.

There were other commissions as well. In 1967, on the occasion of my
twenty-fifth anniversary, we presented the world premiere of "Naria L' Shab-
bat Hamalkah - Sing Unto the Shabbat Queen," an exquisite service written
by the gifted cantor-composer Charles Davidson. The guest conductor that
evening was Michael Charry, assistant conductor of the Cleveland Orchestra.

After the Six-Day War, an oratorio by Menachem Avidom of Israel, "Jer-
usalem Eternal," was commissioned to commemorate the event. Participating
in the performance was the augmented chorus from Cleveland Heights High
School and a chamber group of instrumental members from the Cleveland
Orchestra. Two months later a somewhat more modernistic work, "Israel Re-
born," by the gifted Israeli composer Haim Alexander, was also commis-
sioned by the congregation and received its premiere performance.

In 1968, Sholom Secunda conducted the premiere of his new cantata, "A
Weeping of Stars — Yizkor," at our temple. The memorializing the six mil-
lion Jewish victims of nazism, was written by Cantor Samuel Rosenbaum and
narrated by him with much feeling. The Cleveland Heights High School
Choir, combined with my enlarged Heights Temple Choir, joined with guest
soloist Cantor Arthur Koret and myself to present the impressive musical
score with great eloquence and drama. Robert Finn, music critic of the Cleve-
land Plain Dealer, likened the score to Honegger's "King David," and the
script to Debussy's "Martyrdom of Saint Sebastian." Later that year it was
repeated at the annual convention of the Cantors Assembly with the com-
poser conducting.

21

One of the more unusual services we presented was composed in 1969 by
Cantor Charles Davidson. Called "A Jazz Service for Friday Evening," it
consisted of sacred music in the jazz idiom, and was the outgrowth of a that
brought jazz services, guitar masses and the like, into Christian churches, and
finally began to spill over into the synagogue.

Temple on the Heights became the first synagogue in Cleveland to take the
musical plunge. It presented (on a Wednesday evening) jazz musicians, cho-
ruses and instrumental soloists in a melange of religiously oriented music by
composers like Kurt Weill and Duke Ellington. It included excerpts from El-
lington's "Sacred Jazz Concert" - "In the Beginning God," and "There's
Something About Believing." The Kiddush, in the blues idiom, was by Kurt
Weill ("Threepenny Opera"). There were excerpts from Sarah Hershberg's
folk-jazz opus "Women of the Old Testament," excerpts from Charles David-
son's "Glenn-Millerish" (according to the newspaper review) Sabbath Ser-
vice, and excerpts from a folk-rock service by Cantor Raymond Smolover of
New York. But in 1971 the real jazz event occurred with the exciting perfor-
mance of "A New Song Unto the Lord," a Sabbath eve service by the Broad-
way composer Gershon Kingsley, who came to Cleveland to conduct it. With
Kingsley at the piano pounding out the rock-and-roll beat, I still remember
the jubilant mood of the audience as we sang the intoxicating rhythms of his
joyous "Kiddush."

There were many other commissions and special performances: the "sec-
ond world premiere" of Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco's "Sacred Service for the
Sabbath Eve," in honor of my tenth anniversary celebration in 1952; Leon
Algazi's "Sacred Service," Lazar Weiner's "Chassidic Service," Ernest
Bloch's "Sacred Service," A.W. Binder's "Israel Reborn," and his "B'reyshit."
Other events were devoted to the music of Heinrich Schalit, Frederick Jacobi,
Chemjo Vinaver, Darius Milhaud, and Marc Lavry. I single them out only to
illustrate how strong was the urge within me to find new and greater expres-
sions for our music. At the ongex shubbat, many gifted composers and musi-
cians lectured and performed.

My community involvements were extensive, and many were the concerts
at Severance Hall which I coordinated for the Annual Jewish Arts Festival
programs, of which I was musical director. For a time I was music director of
the Jewish Community Center, and in 1952 I was chairman of a committee
which held a world-wide contest for a new Jewish orchestral composition.
The prize was awarded to Jacques Berlinski of France, and his work was
subsequently performed by the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra in Severance
Hall under George Szell's baton.

In 1955, on the occasion of the Cleveland commemoration of the Jewish
Tercentenary, I arranged for the commissioning by the Jewish Community

22

Federation of a cantata to be written by a major Hollywood author, Norman
Corwin. It was called "The Golden Door" and was a history of Jewish contri-
butions to America. The music for it was composed by Maurice Goldman, the
massive choruses came from all parts of the city, and two well-known Holly-
wood actors (one of them Luther Adler), vividly portrayed the script. It was
held in Cleveland's huge Public Auditorium and was attended by several
thousand people.

Temple on the Heights was also the scene of the first performance in Cleve-
land of Sholom Secunda's new service, "Shabbat Hamalkah," which he con-
ducted and ultimately recorded with me, both on record and on tape. I can still
recall the recording session for "Z'mirot —Sabbath Songs for the Home." It
was a snowy winter evening in Cleveland, the temperature had dropped to
below zero, and we sat on our toes (yes, difficult, but effective!) to keep our
feet warm. Secunda conducted with gloves on his hands, and the male choir
wrapped large woolen scarves around their throats. However, nothing could
impede the wonderful sounds that emanated from them!

One year after Leonard Bernstein wrote the "Chichester Psalms," I ar-
ranged to have its Cleveland premiere at my temple, with Robert Shaw con-
ducting members of the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, the
Temple choir, and me. Ever since then, whenever the Cleveland Orchestra
performs this work, my name and that of Temple on the Heights are perman-
ently listed in its program notes as the first ones to perform it in Cleveland!

Many were the programs in which I participated with orchestras. I was
soloist with the Akron Symphony Orchestra in Ernest Bloch's "Avodath Ha-
kodesh," with a chamber group from the Cleveland Orchestra in Handel's
"Judas Maccabeus," with the Suburban Symphony of Cleveland in Mendel-
sohn's "Elijah." I gave lecture-recitals at Oberlin College, Cleveland Museum
of Art, Purdue University, Bowling Green College. I wrote articles on Jewish
music for the Reconstructionist magazine, the United Synagogue Survey, the
Cleveland Jewish News, the Miami Jewish Floridian. I was a recording artist
for RCA Victor, Asch Recordings, and Tikvah Records. My recording of
'Z'mirot — Sabbath Songs for the Home," has been re-issued in Israel, as well
as Sholom Secunda's "Shabbat Hamalkah," which he recorded with me.

My daughter's wedding in 1962 provided a special occasion to commission
a new musical wedding service, and I called on several of the most important
Jewish composers - Sholom Secunda, Lazar Weiner, Charles Davidson and
Max Helfman. This book of Jewish wedding music is still being used today by
many synagogues.

So many memories of my years in Cleveland crowd into my thoughts, jos-
tling each other for priority. One is the recollection of the huge throngs attend-
ing our Selichot services. Year after year it became "the thing to do" for Jews

23

from all parts of the city. Let me illustrate by quoting from an article written
by Frank Stewart, religion editor of the Cleveland Press: "It was nearly Sun-
day morning and the 'stranger' [himself] was rolling along on a nocturnal
journey under a dark sky to a midnight religious service at Temple on the
Heights. . . The great temple of Byzantine construction was illuminated from
top to bottom. Lights flooded from the lofty dome to cast brilliance on four
huge pillars at the entrance. Hundreds of people were coming in every direc-
tion to the doors of the temple to take part in the ancient and traditional rites
of Selichot.

"As Cantor Meisels started the service, a minute or two after midnight, I
estimated a crowd of over eleven hundred people were present for the peni-
tential prayers. There was a minimum of the spoken word, although there
were responses in which the congregation took part. One heard the pleas for
forgiveness and confession of wrong-doing in the rich and mellow chants of
Cantor Meisels. The service was a fascinating and moving arrangement of
Jewish choral literature. As I watched the large congregation, it was evident
his beautiful voice was interpreting the prayers with full appreciation and
understanding. The throng of midnight worshippers included persons of reli-
gious faiths other than Jewish because the services were open to everyone, but
prayer books which carried the Hebrew form of service contained also the
English translations."

Over the years, I received many honors and accolades. To mention a few: In
1962 the Jewish Theological Seminary presented a Certificate of Apprecia-
tion to me from its chancellor, Dr. Louis Finkelstein, "as a symbol of gratitude
for his devoted service in advancing the cause of hazzanut and Jewish music,
and his able leadership in mobilizing public support for the program of the
Cantors Institute." In 1968, the Hon. Charles A. Vanik, congressman from
Ohio, wrote into the Congressional Record Proceedings, in Washington, D.C.,
his congratulations on my completing 25 years of service with the temple:
"His distinguished career has been filled with service to his religion, his peo-
ple, and the general community. His devotion, the quality of his work, and his
deep faith, are unexcelled. I am proud to know him."

Later that year, Ida and I were honorees at the annual Israel Bond Dinner.
In 1 972, after my term as President of the Cantors Assembly had come to a
close, I was presented by them with a Citation "in appreciation for the ex-
traordinary efforts exerted for a quarter century to help provide the funds
which have made possible the publication, research, education and scholar-
ship aid of the Cantors Assembly." In 1980 I was designated Honoree for the
Seminary Award at a Jewish Federation reception given in Cleveland; and in
1981 the new chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary, Dr. Gerson D.
Cohen, presented me with another Certificate of Appreciation "as an expres-

24

sion of gratitude for dedication and service to the Community in advancing
the religious and cultural traditions of Conservative Judaism, and in recogni-
tion of his leadership in supporting the programs and progress of the Jewish
Theological Seminary."

One proud moment which I shall always treasure came in June, 1979, when
the Cleveland College of Jewish Studies bestowed upon me the degree of
Doctor of Jewish Music, honoris causa, in recognition of my "achievements as
a charismatic cantor, creative teacher, and superb interpreter of the music of
the Jewish people, whose renditions of liturgical and secular music brought a
new sense of the beautiful and holy to vast audiences in the United States,
Canada and Israel. . ."

There have been other awards as well as scholarships. One was established
at the Temple on the Heights, two by the Cantors Assembly, another by a dear
friend, Paul Shapiro in 1979, "in celebration of 37 years of outstanding ser-
vice to Cleveland's Temple on the Heights, and in joyous commemoration of
over three decades of friendship. . . A token of appreciation for a glittering
hazzanic career in which Cantor Meisels enhanced the sacred calling of the
hazzan, devoting himself tirelessly with heart and soul to every facet of Jewish
music and Jewish life in America." The purpose of these scholarships was to
provide assistance to students preparing for the cantorate, to make possible
the publication of new and out-of-print music, and to provide funds for musi-
cological research in Jewish sacred and folk music. These goals were, in ef-
fect, the essence of my work with the Cantors Assembly.

Ever since the inception of the Cantors Assembly, I have worked unceas-
ingly to improve the status of the cantor, and all of my energies were directed
towards their welfare. Together with Cantor Samuel Rosenbaum, the Execu-
tive Vice-President, and Cantor Moses Silverman of blessed memory, we
formed a triumvirate that spent hours and days planning how to develop new
areas of publication, fund-raising, education, and scholarship aid.

In 1964, 1 became the Assembly's President, a post I was to hold for three
years. Those times, because the United Synagogue was in conflict with the
Cantors Assembly. The United Synagogue wanted to have control over the
placement of hazzanim, and be our representative in our dealings with con-
gregations. But we feared for our welfare which might be endangered if a lay
organization had complete control.

After many long meetings between Cantor Rosenbaum, Cantor Silverman
and myself, we decided to resist their demands and reaffirm our own inde-
pendence. Promptly the United Synagogue severed its relations with us.
"Booted out of membership" was the way the headlines in the newspapers put

25

I am proud to say that our hazzanim remained loyal and championed our
cause. We have grown today into a large and highly respected organization
that is now world-wide. We continue as always to support, through scholar-
ship funds, the work of the Cantors Institute, where several of our hazzanim
are on the faculty. We maintain our own excellent Placement service, which is
under our control completely.

It was during my term as president, in 1964, that I had the "z'chut" to lead
to Israel the First International Conference on Synagogue Music. It was a very
exciting time, with conferences, concerts, special services, lectures, and me-
mories. I shall ever treasure the recollection, and photograph, of the reception
for our Executive Board at the home of President Shazar. We drank tea to-
gether, he joined with us in singing "L'chayim tovim. " We spoke of our Con-
vention plans and he autographed our copies of Issachar Miron's "Im Eshka-
cheych. "The warmth and conviviality of that afternoon will long remain with

Another unforgettable experience occurred during our stay and coincided
with the observance of Tisha B'Av. At sundown, what seemed like the entire
population of Jerusalem gathered on the various roads leading up to Har
Tziyon, and together, in orderly rows, we marched quietly to the top where
the roads converged. Solemnly we sat on the low benches and lit the kinot
candles. All was dark save for the flickering of the candles, which stretched
out as far as the eye could see. Each cantor present was assigned a particular
portion, which he chanted aloud with intense emotion and often tears. In the
open rooms about us, encased in glass containers, lay the remnants of the
Holocaust carnage and plunder — lamp shades created out of human skin
with the tattoos still evident upon them, Torah scrolls in shreds with pieces of
hair and dried blood still visible, takysim ripped apart and laying forlorn and
limp, pieces of soap manufactured from human fat. Above all this rose the
subdued keening of the women and the hushed prayers of the men as they
chanted the words of the service. It was a most moving experience, one which
will be forever embedded in the memories of those who were there.

I also recall one more event, that of the cortege and funeral procession for
Z'ev Jabotinsky, creator of the Jewish Legion, whose heroic actions led to the
formation of the Israeli army. His remains were brought to Israel for burial,
and the cortege, laden with flowers, slowly wound through the streets of Tel
Aviv. All around, on each sidewalk, lines of people crowded and jostled each
other to be closer to their national idol. As the cortege approached the Great
Synagogue on Allenby Street, Hazzan Benjamin Unger came down the steps,
ascended a small platform, and commenced to chant the Eyl Maley Racha-
mim. A hush descended on the thousands of people assembled far and wide, as
the rich voice of Hazzan Unger resounded through the atmosphere and over

26

the heads of the people standing shoulder to shoulder. The people stood silent,
transfixed and breathless. Was it the memory of a man whose ideals meant so
much to them? Was it the eloquent voice of the hazzan echoing along the
labyrinth of streets radiating out from the square? Was it the threnody of the
traditional prayer, which hovered like an invisible cloud over the heads of the
people and permeated their subconscious with memories of chants ages old?
It was truly nerve-tingling.

The Cantors Assembly convocation ended on a joyful note as several of the
cantors, myself included, gave a concert in one of the open-air stadiums. A
near-riot occurred when we ran out of space for all those clamoring to get in,
and admission had to be curtailed. Even Issachar Miron, who had engineered
the entire concert and was its chairman, had so much difficulty entering that
his glasses were broken in the brawl. The response of the audience to our
singing was electric, and their enthusiasm knew no bounds. The concert fi-
nally concluded with the audience joining us all in singing a Yiddish song.

But enough of plaques and awards and testimonials. What is more impor-
tant, I always felt, was to inspire young people, to exert an influence upon
them by opening their minds to the beauty of our sacred music. It is with our
youth that we face our greatest challenge. They are the ones who must carry
forward the Jewish hope for the future. This is why I am so proud that a
number of scholarships in my name have been provided for students who will
carry on the traditions of our profession. Through my work with the children
in the classrooms, the Youth services, and the Cantor's Club (now the Zamir
Junior Choir), I tried to instill in our young people a deeper appreciation of
Judaism, a stronger love for Torah, and forge an even greater link in the chain
of living Judaism. The Talmud says, "Chanoch ina-ar al pi darko gam ki
yazkin b yasur mimenu" - "If you lead a child along the path of learning and
Torah when he is young, even when he is old he will not depart from it."

I feel I have touched the lives of many of my students and influenced their
course of direction. Danny Gildar, for example, became a cantor; Alan Let-
tofsky, Larry Lauer and Mark Borowitz all became rabbis. Many of my stu-
dents went on to become youth leaders and junior cantors in their colleges and
summer camps. And because of their intensive training in my Cantor's Club,
they became more knowledgeable Jews with a keener awareness of their Jew-
ish identity. I often gave advice and offered material to colleagues seeking my
help. Jan Peerce, the distinguished operatic star and my long-time dear friend,
who had asked me to suggest some Hebrew music to him, wrote me: "I will be
indebted to you for a long time for all the suggestions and help you have given

Early in my career, I realized the need to raise additional money for the
Cantors Assembly - to augment their funds so that they could continue their

27

noble work of scholarship, education, and the publication of out-of-print
music. Cantor Moses Silverman and I formed a Development Committee to
raise these funds, and I hit upon the idea of holding a Gala Cantoqal concert
in my temple. The response was overwhelming, with people from all parts of
the city clamoring to buy tickets. Evidently hazzanic chant strikes a respon-
sive chord within people's hearts. I would invite two or three of the most
important cantors and supplement them with my local colleagues. In order to
show their dedication to the Cantors Assembly and its projects, the hazzanim
sang with very little or no compensation. Each concert was a huge financial
success and all moneys went directly to the Cantors Assembly. At each suc-
cessive concert I presented different hazzanim to the delighted audiences,
among them the most celebrated men in our profession.

Among those who gave so generously of their time and talents were David
Kusevitsky, Louis Danto, Arthur Koret, Moshe Taube, Abraham Denburg,
Isaac Goodfriend and Benjamin Siegel. We soon prevailed on other congrega-
tions throughout the country to follow suit, and these Cantorial concerts be-
came an additional source of revenue. Many congregations now have an an-
nual Cantorial Concert as part of their yearly events.

In 1979, at the close of thirty- seven years with Temple on the Heights, Ida
and I decided to retire from Cleveland. To commemorate this, I arranged two
programs. The first was a magnificent Sabbath Eve service which consisted of
prayers selected from many of the services I had commissioned in the past.
The second was a Gala Cantorial Concert in which seventeen of the most
eminent hazzanim in the country lifted their voices in glorious song before an
ecstatic audience of sixteen hundred people. These men had traveled from
cities far and wide to express their love to me and pay tribute to a colleague
on the occasion of his retirement. It was a spectacular event.

The Indianapolis Jewish Post and Opinion called it the pinnacle, not only of
Cleveland's cantorial history, but perhaps that of any Jewish community in
the United States. Participating were: Cantors Morton Shames, Arthur Koret,
Martin Leubitz, Elliot Portner, Jacob Barkin, Tibor Kelen, Moshe Taube,
Erno Grosz, Moshe Ganchoff, Louis Danto, Isaac Goodfriend, Jacob Mendel-
son, Ben Zion Miller, Abraham Mizrahi, David Kusevitsky, Daniel Gildar,
and myself. The concert, in which each cantor sang only one selection, con-
cluded with a group of joyful Hassidic songs, in which each cantor joined with
me one by one, until the entire bima shook with their singing and dancing.
The Jewish Post headed their report, "Seventeen Cantors Fete Meisels in Un-
forgettable Concert." After the concert an elaborate reception was tendered
for the hazzanim in the home of the Co-Chairman and his wife, Mr. and Mrs.
Jack Friedman, where the music went on until the early morning hours.

Dr. Julius Drossin, writing glowingly about the concert in the Post, said: "If

28

one is fortunate enough to attend such a celebration once in a lifetime, it is
rare indeed. To anticipate another seems almost impossible. Yet the excel-
lence of so many young cantorial voices with full careers ahead gives rise to
the hope that our country's Jewish communities are well served with vibrancy
and talent. If not for us, then for our children let there be great comfort in this
knowledge."

In 1982, shortly after arriving in Miami, my planning of cantorial concerts
reached its culmination in a magnificent concert which I arranged to be held
at Miami's large Theatre of Performing Arts. Since I was no longer connected
with a specific synagogue, I had to become solely responsible for the sale of
2900 tickets! But as in previous years, the concert was a tremendous success
and I was able to raise quite a considerable amount of money for the Cantors
Assembly. The hazzanim participating included David Bagley, Erno Grosz,
Tibor Kellen, Ben Zion Miller, and myself. Since then, cantorial concerts have
proliferated and are held annually in nearly every synagogue in Miami, al-
though I am sorry to say, no longer solely for the benefit of the Cantors As-
sembly. The Miami concert was repeated the next evening in Ft. Lauderdale's
Bailey Hall by Cantor Maurice Neu, and several days later in Atlanta with
Cantor Isaac Goodfriend, both very successfully.

One of those attending the concerts in Florida was Mr. Haim Wiener, who
became enamored with the art of the cantor after listening to both concerts.
He and his wife Gila have since established a "Foundation for the Advance-
ment of the Cantorial Arts," which subsidizes cantorial concerts both here
and abroad. He insists that these Cantorial Concerts inspired him to begin this
noble project.

In 1986 a most unusual and distinctive honor was accorded me on the
occasion of my Fifty Years in the Cantorate. At its Annual Convention that
year, the Cantors Assembly devoted an evening to me, described my life-long
activities, and presented me with a Kavod Award "in recognition of a half-
century of outstanding dedication to the calling of Hazzanut. . . An authentic
and classic Sheliah Tzibbur, " it continued, "his style combines elegance and
consummate musicianship. He has been for decades the interpreter of the
Yiddish art and folksong par excellence, moving and inspiring audiences in
his long career. A former President of the Cantors Assembly, he has devoted
himself consistently and continually with energy and courage to our sacred
calling and to those who pursue it."

Since coming to Miami, where I live now in semi-retirement, I still officiate
for the High Holy days, conduct Passover seders, and serve as a substitute
cantor for congregations as emergencies arise. I am currently at work on a
series of resource books for cantors, for publication in the near future. I still
maintain my community involvement and act as liaison for the Joint Place-

29

merit Commission of the Cantors Assembly for those seeking part-time em-
ployment in the Miami area. Always concerned about the financial needs of
the Cantors Assembly, I continue to raise funds for it from friends and former
congregants, with whom Ida and I maintain a very close relationship.

I am grateful for so many things. I thank God particularly for His blessings
of good health to me and Ida, and for giving us two remarkable children,
Florence and Samuel, generous in their love towards us and talented and
gifted in their own fields. Ours is a unique marriage; unique because Ida and I
share everything we do. Ida has always been a part of my musical career, my
"eyzer k 'negdo, " and the love that flows between us echoes and re-echoes in a
thousand ways.

Formerly Music Director of the Cleveland Hebrew Schools for 25 years,
she is a talented pianist, arranger and composer. She has published over 150
arrangements of traditional and modern Hebrew and Yiddish songs for solo as
well as chorus, to be used in concert or the synagogue. Many of the folksongs
of yesteryear, as well as today, will now continue to be a part of our Jewish
heritage to treasure, instead of being lost to future generations. The response
to her music by cantors everywhere has been tremendous, and "in recognition
of her outstanding and devoted efforts over many years in behalf of hazzanut
and the Cantors Assembly," a $ 1 0,000 Scholarship Fund has been established
in her name.

My daughter, Florence, has played flute with the New York Opera Orches-
tra for many years and is currently Treasurer of Local 802 of the Musicians
Union. Our son, Samuel, lives in Ann Arbor, Mich., where he is a Research
Professor at the University of Michigan, specializing in the educational prob-
lems of the very young handicapped child.

When I retired from Cleveland, one of the editorials that appeared about
me in the Cleveland Jewish News stated: "Saul Meisels has demonstrated
throughout his career a desire to uphold the best in traditional hazzanut as
well as provide opportunities for gifted modern composers to add to the
treasure-house of Jewish music. His efforts have brought national recognition
to himself and honor to his community."

1 am proud that through my encouragement of new music for the syn-
agogue 1 helped to widen the scope of Jewish composition. 1 am grateful for
the understanding and generous friends who supported my undertakings and
made it possible for me to commission composers to create new music, and
that through this encouragement, the musical literature of the synagogue has
been measurably increased. And I am proud that the Cantorial Concerts
which I presented at Temple on the Heights have become a model for other
congregations throughout the country to emulate.

30

I feel that the hazzan of today must work for the good of all hazzanim and
forge a path along which others can follow. We are all builders of the future,
and whether we build at the religious or the secular level, in the synagogue or
in the community, all of us should work together for the greater welfare and
advancement of our sacred profession. My highest reward has never been
what I received for my work but what my efforts were able to accomplish and
engender. I do not believe a man's worth is measured by the number of years
he has lived. What one should celebrate is the contribution a person has made
to his generation in his life-time.

Abraham Heschel once wrote: "Hazzanut is the art of interpreting the
words of the siddur. The cantor's task is to bring the words to life." This is
what I have always tried to do — to give life to the words, to the Jewish soul
within me, to give expression to the soundless words imprisoned within the
hearts of my congregants.

We read in the Psalms: "'Ivdu et Adonai b' simcha, bo'u I'fanav birnana."
"Serve the Lord in gladness, come before Him with joyous song." If 1 have
accomplished this in any small measure, if I have been able to inspire some of
my colleagues with a new enthusiasm and ignite the spark of musical creativ-
ity, if I have been able to demonstrate that hazzanim cannot live only in the
present but must look future, then I know that our sacred chants and the songs
of our people will flourish eternally and keep alive our exalted musical
heritage.

What we do for ourselves very often dies with us. It is what we do for others
that remains and is immortal.

"A SONG FOR THE HEART"

On November 19, 1988, I was privileged to join three other hazzanim
(Jacob Mendelson, Daniel Gildar, and Ben-Zion Miller) on a historic Cantor-
ial mission to Romania, Israel, and the Soviet Union. The mission was the
result of the efforts and financial assistance of Haim Wiener, founder and
president of the Gila and Haim Wiener Foundation for the Advancement of
the Cantorial Art.

My visit to Romania was the second in as many years. Nothing has really
changed except that more families have either gone on aliyah to Israel or have
passed away.

The Jewish people in Romania were anxiously awaiting our return and we
felt as if we had come home. We visited seven cities and gave as many con-
certs. In all of the seven cities we were received with warm enthusiasm and
joyful tears.

We also joined in a concert in the Mann Auditorium in Tel Aviv, a tribute to
the Kusevitsky brothers and sponsored by the same foundation that sponsored
our tour behind the Iron Curtain. All of the seats in Mann Auditorium were
sold out weeks in advance. Hundreds of people were left standing outside.

The interest in hazzanut in Israel is high, so much so that the Municipality
of Tel Aviv and the Gila and Haim Wiener Foundation are the sponsors of a
school for hazzanim with an enrollment of 65 students.

Our visit to the Soviet Union was a most unforgettable and emotional
experience.

My expectations and recollections of the past played on my emotions and 1
found myself unable to fall asleep. I kept on thinking of my experiences as a
child in Russia, the Stalin era, and the refuseniks. I tried to envision what the
people would look like, what the structures would be like, and what the shul
would feel like. I couldn't help but think how my life's history has changed.
My family and I long ago escaped from Russia and now I have returned with
an official invitation by the Government to sing and to daven!

Our first concert was held in the Moscow Great Synagogue. The shul was
packed to capacity with hundreds standing in the aisles. Their receptiveness
and enthusiasm cannot be described. They applauded and shouted "Bravo."
They saw me as an artist and I saw them as spiritually emaciated and starved

Jews. Most did not know the words to the recitatives or Yiddish songs. How-
ever, one could feel and almost touch their Jewish heartbeat. Present at our
first concert was Konstantin Kharchev, Chairman of the Council on Religious
Affairs, U.S.S.R. Council of Ministers. He was extremely impressed with our
musical message. He asked us to meet with him the following afternoon at
5:00 p.m. for ten minutes. The meeting lasted for fifty minutes. Mr. Kharchev
kept on telling us about the new Russian era, about the great strides and
progress under the leadership of President Mikhail Gorbachev. He praised our
mission and its accomplishments especially for East-West relations and more
particularly for the Jewish community in the Soviet Union.

We always ended our concerts with the singing of Am Yisroel Chai": The
people of Israel lives. In this song we involved as many as possible in a dance.
I have never signed as many autographs as I did in the Soviet Union. Yes, we
captured the spiritual souls of the Jews in Russia.

Interestingly enough, the most sought-after recitative was my singing of
"Ani Mu-umin. Somehow we kindled the spark of emunah in their hearts.

The service on Shabbat morning in the Great Synagogue was an experience
that I will never forget. The shul was packed to capacity. Few wore taleysim
and only a few held prayer books. However, their eyes were glued on the Aron
Kodesh. So many wept constantly, one could actually see and feel that they
were moved to great spiritual heights.

The Shabbat morning service began at 9:45 a.m. and ended at 3:15 p.m.!
Somehow we made up for all the years that they were denied the basic privi-
lege of worshipping in total freedom.

Every word in the prayers had special significance, meaning and purpose.
The prayers had a genuine spiritual message. I felt ever closer to God.

That same Saturday evening, which was the first night of Hanukkah, we
gave our second concert. There must have been at least 3,400 people both
inside and outside the shul. As a matter of fact, loudspeakers were placed in
such a way as to enable the hundereds of people outside the shul to hear the
concert. Can you imagine, or can you feel what it was like to kindle officially
the first Hanukkah candle in the Soviet Union and proclaim for all to see and
hear the great miracle that "Am Yisroel Chai' ?

Sunday morning we gave a concert at the Gnessin Hall of the Moscow
Conservatory of Music. The 1500 people in attendance were shouting "Kol
Nidre" and "Rozinkes Mit Mandlen"! From there we went to the Lubavitch
house. We sang and we danced for a good hour. Outside the Lubavitch house
we saw a large Hanukkah Menorah -truly a miracle.

Yes, my friends, hazzanut was revived in Russia and Romania thanks to
Haim Wiener, whom I consider a true tzadik. Our mission was indeed a "Song
for the Heart."

CANTORS ASSEMBLY IN ISRAEL
JULY 1987

During the two weeks from July 7-2 I, 1987, the Cantors Assembly, the
professional organization of hazzanim who serve the Congregations of the
Conservative Movement, celebrated its 40th anniversary convention in what
it described as a "festive gathering of hazzanim, synagogue Jews, musicians
and scholars from all over the world." Under the inspired and dedicated lead-
ership of the organization's president, Cantor Solomon Mendelson, the pro-
gram of lectures, concerts, fellowship, sightseeing, and travel went off without
a hitch, providing a never-to-be-forgotten musical, spiritual, and cultural ex-
perience for the eight hundred attendees of the convention, not to mention
providing a wonderful two-week vacation for the hazzanim, their families
and friends who came from different countries to Israel to attend this event
and make it memorable.

For those who could not attend, it is worthwhile to record the many varied
activities that were packed into just two short weeks. Hazzanim from all over
the world met in a collegial atmosphere, sharing their common interest in
learning and performing in their chosen field with an unforgettable closeness
and camaraderie. There were special events every day. dealing with the reli-
gious and cultural life of Jews around the world. We were privileged to hear
about, and to hear, new ideas and new idioms in hazzanut. We were able to
hear many cantors in many different forums, from Yad Vashem to the Kotel.
from Shabbat services and zemirot at Shabbat dinners to mini-concerts al-
most every evening. The peak of these cantorial activities was reached at two
gala cantorial concerts in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, in which fourteen cantors
from all over the world participated. The Johannesburg Jewish Male Choir led
by Gus Levy thrilled more than a thousand listeners in the SRO audiences that
came to hear them. In this regard, it is a form of "hakarat hatov" (expression
of gratitude) to acknowledge the generous sponsorship of these concerts by
the Gila and Hairn Wiener Foundation, which has generously supported many
programs of the Cantors Assembly.

But hazzanut was not the only activity of the convention. We were able to
find time to visit many sites of Jewish history and tradition in Israel, including
some that were "firsts" for many of us.

e high holy days for over twenty five years in

34

There were other aspects of the convention of perhaps more enduring sig-
nificance. Because of this convention, seven hundred of us — hazzanim, their
families and friends — had the privilege of marking with our presence the
occasion of the 20th year of Jerusalem's unification and Israel's 40th anniver-
sary, thereby uplifting its morale, assisting lagging tourism, and demonstrat-
ing the bonds of peoplehood between Jews of the Diaspora and the Jews of
Israel. Surely 1987 provided a fitting opportunity for the Cantors Assembly to
hold its annual convention in Israel for the first time on the occasion of the
Assembly's 40th anniversary.

The convention gave us the opportunity to meet Mayor Teddy Kollek of
Jerusalem, Natan Sharansky and his mother, Ida Milgrom, both recently of the
USSR and now residents of Jerusalem, and to hear and meet Member of the
Knesset and Minister of Tourism, Moshe Sharir; Member of the Knesset and
former Minister, Dr. Yosef Burg; the biblical scholar, Pinhas Peli; and the
ethno-musicologist, Dr. Uri Sharvit.

We were moved, too, by our visit to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Museum in
Jerusalem, and the renewal there of our dedication to eternal remembrance of
the Holocaust in a special ceremony of Yizkor This event featured the beauti-
ful singing of the Ankor Children's Choir of the Rubin Academy of Jerusalem
and Hazzan Louis Teichman, and an address by Dr. Pesach Schindler, Direc-
tor of the Israel Office of the World Council of Synagogues.

It would be easy enough to stop here. But I believe that the achievements of
this convention make a number of rather important statements of historical
and cultural nature that are worthy of attention.

The convention brought home dramatically, in all its aspects, the trans-
cendence of Jewish culture above national boundaries, and the vibrance of
Jewish life throughout the Diaspora. Jewish people, or "family" as Professor
Ruth Wisse has aptly called it, has a culture of which hazzanut is a living and
important aspect, that transcends the boundaries of space and time, which has
affected Jews everywhere and which Jews everywhere have helped to create.

Because we are all part of a people or family, we owe to each other respon-
sibilities of mutual aid, comfort and service. Whether one looks to the exam-
ple of the two tribes of Reuben and Gad who were required to fight alongside
their brethren before they could settle outside the borders of the Promised
Land, or the practices of pidyon shvuyim, redemption of prisoners, by Jews in
Italy, England, Ottoman Turkey, and other lands, or the varied forms of as-
sistance openly and clandestinely given by American Jews to the Jewish State
under attack after its birth, Jews know that they owe continuing service to
Israel, just as it stands ready to come to the aid of Jews all over the world if
that is ever required.

If the new school of hazzanut in Israel, announced by Tel Aviv Mayor

35

Shlomo Lahat at the second Gala Concert, is to be successful, it is to be hoped
that members of the Cantors Assembly will offer their services periodically to
that endeavor, as dentists and other professionals and other volunteers con-
tribute their services in Israel on a regular basis and from time to time.

The convention dramatically brought home the fact that the state of cantor-
ial vocal artistry is very high. Indeed, as one Israeli speaker noted one evening,
one may accurately consider it a second Golden Age of Hazzanut from that
standpoint. However, one must candidly admit that perhaps the prior Golden
Age excelled this one in its compositional ability.

Indeed, the uniformity of the material presented at the two galas suggests
that more emphasis should be placed by cantors on the composition of new
melodies and larger works. I know that at its conventions in the United States
a much more modern and varied style of hazzanut is generally presented. The
two galas reinforce the conclusion that the traditional compositions and mel-
odies, wonderful as they still are, do not suffice to bring to the service the
fullest interest, understanding, and emotional involvement of modern
congregations.

Jews today are increasingly divorced from a past of unrelieved suffering
and oppression and, from a religious standpoint, practice Judaism with free-
dom, optimism, and a new sense of dignity and worth. It should not be surpris-
ing that Jews who were once treated shabbily prayed with a sense of worth-
lessness as well as helplessness. Israel and other democracies in the world
have given Jews the opportunity to pray not only with spiritual humility but
with new feelings of adequacy and dignity. The reputation of hazzanut is not
enhanced by perpetuating the idea among Jewish worshippers that nothing
has changed or can change in the music of the synagogue.

In this regard, Dr. Yosef Burg's address was very instructive and is worthy
of widespread attention. He made two important points of particular interest.
The first, which we have mentioned, is that hazzanim cannot hope to keep
modern congregants interested and involved by the unrelieved chanting of the
old style nusah, melodies and compositions. No one suggests disgarding our
most treasured traditions. No one suggests dropping the Kol N idre melody. But
new modes and melodies, new forms and formats, and new feelings must be
found to enrich our musical tradition.

In the United States, perhaps unknown to Dr. Burg, this is being done, par-
ticularly through new commissioned works. The new music at its best is less
repetitive, more lyrical, more optimistic, less melodramatic, more confident
and less petitioning, more varied and less predictable. The compositions of
Israeli composers for the synagogue like Eli Jaffe are a significant contribu-
tion to liturgical composition largely within traditional frameworks; the
works being done outside of Israel often move into new musical frameworks

36

in terms of style and feeling. It is unfortunate that the significant opportunity
to present such music in Israel was missed by the narrow range of music that
was presented at the convention, exemplary as those presentations were from
the standpoint of vocal artistry.

Dr. Burg's second point, made in jest surely, although there is always some
seriousness intended and included in jests was, as he put it, "you don't have to
be an "am hahretz" to be a hazzan." Indeed, for many years the hazzan was
largely, and many times, solely responsible for carrying on the religious and
the musical traditions of the liturgy and more. In more modern times, the
emergence of two distinct professions vying for congregational loyalty and
support has created divisions that are unfortunate for all. But Dr. Burg's re-
marks suggest an important lesson for hazzanim and rabbis, and, indeed, for
all Jews involved in the creation and transmission of Jewish culture. If we are
a people, and a culture, there is little excuse for anyone being an "am ha'a-
retz, " which I would define in the modern world as largely embracing people
who are reasonably well informed about their own field but poorly informed
about any other.

And so one may ask, why aren't there more hazzanim at rabbinical "shi'u-
rim"and why aren't there more rabbis at cantorial concerts and other serious
musical events'? Why aren't appreciable numbers of them present at lectures
by Jewish historians, sociologists and novelists? Is it really so self-evident that
none has anything of relevance to contribute to the other, or is not the oppo-
site self-evidently true?

The issue goes beyond the need for inter-disciplinary fertilization and ex-
tends to inter-cultural fertilization. The Cantors Assembly convention of haz-
zanim in Israel not only brought together hazzanim from many places and
cultures. It also involved the ideas and inputs of religious, historical and cultu-
ral scholars. It was inter-cultural and inter-disciplinary in scope. This type of
programming provides a model not just for hazzanim but for all who are
involved in Jewish cultural life, to look beyond their own borders and disci-
plines so that they can be enriched by the ideas and creativity of their fellow
Jews everywhere.

Finally, one cannot omit the importance of the concert that featured the
two cantatas, "1 Never Saw Another Butterfuly" by Charles Davidson, based
on the poems of the children of Terezin concentration camp, and "A Time for
Freedom" by Samuel Rosenbaum and Charles Davidson, based on Natan
Sharansky's trial in the USSR.

It has often been remarked that Jews have not yet been able to incorporate
crucial events of modern history into the Jewish liturgy, including the rebirth
of the State of Israel, the unification of Jerusalem, the Holocaust, the plight
and the unbelievable courage of Soviet Jewry, and what one can only describe

37

as the massive "kibbutz galuyot, " ingathering of exiles, that we have wit-
nessed, from Morocco to Soviet Russia, in the past forty years. But in the
meantime, hazzanim have assumed at least part of the responsibility of com-
missioning and creating new forms to express the meaning of these experien-
ces, to give them continuity with the rest of our history, to keep these events
alive in our memory and our emotions, and to fashion new artistic and liturgi-
cal vessels of a modern and thus more relevant nature with which to express
the traditional values of our past.

The two works we were privileged to hear are bold, original, and often
arresting and moving. If they were not complete esthetic successes, they were
completely successful as evidence of the kind of innovation that is necessary
and possible in our musical culture, provided our composers, our rabbis and
our tsibbur have the vision to support it.

And so, the 40th anniversary convention of the Cantors Assembly was
much more than that. It was an event and an experience for those who were
there of historic significance and implications, from which all Jews and not
just our hazzanim benetitted and can take nourishment in the years ahead.

REVIEWS OF NEW MUSIC

"Cradle of Fire," by Michael Isaacson; five settings of Holocaust
songs for treble choir and orchestra. Piano reduction by the com-
poser, with English adaptations by Samuel Rosenbaum; Transcon-
tinental Music Publishers.

Dr. Robert STRASSBURG

Once again, Dr. Michael Isaacson has served the cause of Jewish music
with distinction by creating effective settings for live Holocaust songs for
treble choir, string orchestra and harp. The choral score, with a piano reduc-
tion by the composer, includes the timeless Shtiler, Shtiler, S'Brent, Zog Nit
Keynmal Babi Yar and Ani Maainin.

The settings are well within the capacity of any well-trained children or
adult group. The choral writing is idiomatic and the piano accompaniments
moderately easy. In its orchestral dress, "Cradle of Fire" is equally if not more
compelling.

Cantor Samuel Rosenbaum has contributed richly to the song cycle with his
persuasive English translations of 5" Brent and Babi Yar. He weds words and
melody in a faithful manner.

"Cradle of Fire" opens with Shtiler, Shtiler, a tragic lullaby for sopranos and
altos, supported by a tender and unobtrusive harp and string accompaniment.
The choral writing of S'Brent, which follows, is Schubertian in character. The
four-part choral texture of the middle and closing section is challenging in its
intensity and the arabesque-like figuration given to the orchestra makes this
one of the most imaginative treatments in the collection.

Zog Nit Keynmol is in striking contrast. Its quasi-military accompaniment
provides this "blood inscribed melody" born of the concentration camp ag-
ony, with a chilling treatment. No less potent is Isaacson's setting of Babi Yar
with its call "to rock all Babi Yar to sleep."

Although Ani Maamin has received numerous treatments, it is presented in
a new and fervent light for solo voice and chorus. Maimonides' call for undy-
ing faith brings Isaacson's suite of Holocaust echoes, some fifty years after
Auschwitz and the Warsaw Ghetto, to an aching close.

Lest we forget, we are indebted to folk composers Volkovski, Gebirtig,
Prokrass and Shapiro, as well as to poets Katcherginsky, Hirsh Glik and
Shaike Driz, for they are the initial creators who experienced the unbearable
tragedy of the Holocaust.

DR. ROBERT STRASSBURG is a well known American composer and Professor Emeritus of
the faculty of California State University at Los Angeles.

They are ably and nobly served by Michael Isaacson. "Cradle of Fire" is
published by Transcontinental Music Publishers. It is available in vocal score
with piano reduction. The orchestral score may be obtained on rental.

"Shaarei Shirah: Gates of Song" Charles Davidson, music editor,
UAHC, Transcontinental Music Publishers.

BARUCH COHON

In 1953 the Hebrew Union School of Sacred Music began publishing out-
of-print classics of Jewish music. In his preface to the first volume (Baer's
Baal Tefilah) Eric Werner wrote: "May (this book) become the corrective
against those fictitious 'traditions' which rest solely upon the belief in individ-
ual cantors."

Now, after thirty-five years of placing the school's graduates in congrega-
tions throughout the country — some of which never had cantors before —
the Reform movement has produced a book of music designed as a compan-
ion to Gates of Prayer, and is embarked on an energetic campaign to sell it to
all the Jewish world. Workshop sessions at national and regional conventions
of congregations, cantors, and rabbis devote major amounts of time to this
book.

Small wonder. Shaarei Shirah has been a long time coming. Glance at the
opening statement, and count the names of those mentioned as raking an
active role on various commitees involved with its publication. Our own Can-
tors Assembly colleague, Charles Davidson, probably should qualify as next
ambassador to the United Nations after serving as musical editor on such a
multiple-cooks project!

Under such circumstances, no editor can expect to achieve unity of style.
What the potential user must look for is musical clarity, consistency in format,
and some guidance for the layman. With all those supervisors hanging over
his shoulder, how much success did Davidson and his staff achieve in these
areas? And what of Werner's "fictitious traditions?"

Certainly they have produced a clean attractive volume. The looseleaf key-
board edition is overpriced, perhaps deliberately, given the prevalence of
Xerox bootlegging. But the more affordable leadsheet edition, with melody
line and guitar chords, also comes in an 81Qby 11 inch size, perfect for copy
machines. Nevertheless, the editors express a "hope that this edition will be

BARUCH COHON is Cantor at Temple Emanuel, Beverly Hills, California

40

used by congregants during worship services, as well as by teachers, students,
campers and families." In an era when musical literacy seems to have fallen
to a very low ebb, even among some who make their living in music, it will be
interesting to see how many congregations will invest in multiple copies of
this book; and of those who do how many will actually place them in the
prayerbook racks. Historically, the Union Hymnal, Union Songster, and sim-
ilar predecessors wound up in dust-covered cartons, even though they were
printed in a handier page-size.

• unison singing groups, this book has definite strong points. It
> a great number of standard tunes, clearly presented, with intelligent
instrumental introductions and consistent transliteration, in generally singable
keys. It also prints the Hebrew text, which should encourage some singers to
improve their Hebrew literacy while they are at it, and also enable those who
know Hebrew to avoid getting confused by the transliteration.

Content, however, is spotty. Taking the committee's opening statement at
face value, it must be stated that the book fails to meet some of its own goals.
Guideline No. 2 specifies "music that is authentically Jewish, using where
possible traditional modes." Loose enough to interpret various ways, this
statement still assumes some liturgical and modal framework. In fact, there is
virtually none. Evening and morning texts and music are evidently interchan-
geable, whether they apply to Sh' ma uvirchoteha or Tfilah sections. Nusah is
missing. This is a Shabbat book, intended for the entire year, yet it omits
Hallel entirely, and includes Avinu Malkein, which is not part of the Shabbat
liturgy.

Guideline No. 3 specifies music that is "widely used and appropriate to
congregational singing." I would raise an objection to appropriateness on the
grounds of repetition of the Divine Name as if it were just another word. This
is found throughout the book. Composers can violate this tradition through
choice or through ignorance, but a collection published by an entire move-
ment can be expected to be more sensitive.

Guideline No. 4 specifies music for "texts that appear in Shaarei Tefilah, "
and an earlier paragraph states: "this volume includes settings for every text in
Gates Of Prayer suitable for congregational singing." Not quite. For example,
how can a Shabbat songbook leave out L'chu W'ran'na, Vay' chulu, Or Zarua?
For a prayerbook that opens one Sabbath Eve service with Mu Yedidot, where
is the tune for it?

And finally, when the committee declares: "We have, wherever possible,
adjusted the melody to the correct Hebrew accentuation," they are sticking
their necks out. Just one comparison should illustrate the point. Janowski's
Huriu (#2 1), clearly written in the rhythm of Israeli Hebrew, achieves correct

41

accents throughout with no problem. The Bialik-Minkowsky Shabat Hamal-
kuh (#158) blows hot and cold, with frequent concessions to old habits. Re-
sult: ' Ashkesephardi. " Having wrestled with that same song in the 7950 edi-
tion of the Idelsohn Songbook. I noticed very quickly that regardless what we
printed, people sang it the way they knew it. Now, however, Yehoram Gaon
has recorded an Israeli version with correct accents throughout — and surpris-
ingly enough it is not awkward. Same melody, different approach.

For reasons possibly more political than musical, some numbers included
that are too complex or too theatrical to qualify as "congregational singing."
Others found their way in here from summer camps. Placing these selections
alongside standard synagogue melodies creates an odd impression — a crazy-
quilt of unrelated, uneven, inconsistent material.

Good or mediocre, valuable or worthless, the material in this book certainly
offers the user a choice. What it does not offer is a tradition. Thirty-five years
after their first publication, the Committees of the Reform movement have
now taken some of the trends aptly called "fictitious traditions" and stamped
them authentic.

Nevertheless, it is time which will determine the success of this collection.
Its availability in different forms makes it possible that some traditional Jew-
ish music will become available and familiar to the under-educated musicians
serving in too many congregations. On the other hand, the inclusion of popu-
lar melodies may be' of use to more established synagogue musicians who are
less aware of contemporary goings-on. The publishers and the editor are to be
commended, in any case, for their efforts.

MUSIC SECTION

Jacob Rapoport was probably the leading composer of hazzanic recitatives
in early 20th century in America. His compositions were usually commissi-
oned by leading hazzanim of the "Golden Age" who sang them in appearan-
ces all over the country with great success.

Although an intellectual and highly competent craftsman, he did not suc-
cumb to deviations from his path of nusah to indulge in harmonic histrionics
for the sake of show. His pieces are deeply rooted in Eastern European soul
and piety.

Charles Heller is a Toronto composer and conductor who made the arran-
gements which follow at the commission of Hazzan Benjamin Maissner of
Holy Blossom Temple.

We publish here arrangements of two of Rapoport' s most famous recita-
tives: "Brich Sh'mei, " and Anenu "

B'RICH SH'MEI

Arrangement commissioned by Cantor Benjamin Maissner, Holy Blossom Temple, Toronto

Jacob Rappoport
arr. Charles Heller

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