Cantors Assembly Journal of Synagogue Music

JOURNAL

OF SYNAGOGUE MUSIC

December 1972/KISLEV 5733

VOLUME IV

Number 3

CONTE NTS

Music In the American Synagogue: II Samuel H. Adler 3

Synagogue Music In Eighteenth Century

Amsterdam Roger Staum 14

To the HAZZAN Mitchell Salem Fisher 21

J ewish Music as a Bridge of Understanding Ira P. Goldberg 22

Salomone ROSSI and Claudio Monteverdi David Chazanoff 30

The Synagogue Music of Ben Steinberg Michael Isaacson 35

DEPARTMENTS

Music Section

Excerpts from Lieder-Zamelbuch
far der Yiddisher Shut un Familieh

J ournal of synagogue music, Volume IV, Number 3
December 1972 / Kislev 5733
Published by Cantors Assembly

editor: Morton Shames

managing EDItor: Samuel Rosenbaum

editorial board: Abraham Lubin, Saul Meisels, Dr. Edgar Mills,
David J. Putterman, Moses J. Silverman, Robert Shapiro, DF. Max
Wohlberg.

associate members: Ivan E. Perlman, Chairman; Sidney Karpo,
Karl Kritz Ephraim Rosen berg.

officers of the cantors assembly: Yehuda Mandel, President;
Gregor Shelkan, Vice President; Kurt Silbermann, Treasurer;
Morton Shames, Secretary; Samuel Rosenbaum, Executive Vice
President.

journal of synagogue mUsic is a quarterly publication. The sub-
scription fee is $10.00 per year. Second-class postage paid at New
York, New York. All articles, communications and subscriptions
should be addressed to Journal of Synagogue Music, Cantors Assem-
bly, 150 Fifth Avenue, New York 10011.

Copyright © 1972, Cantors Assembly

MUSIC IN THE AMERICAN SYNAGOGUE: II

Samuel H. Adler

(This is the conclusion of the article begun in Volume ZZZ, No. 4
in which the author traced the early Eastern and European roots
of Synagogue music. This second article is reprinted from The
American Choral Review, July 1964, with the permission of the
American Choral Foundation, Inc.)

But now to America, where music for the Synagogue became an
important issue only after 1850. As we have said, the Spanish-
Portuguese community of the 17th century was relatively unimport-
ant for two reasons: its extremely small size, and its loyalty to
Sephardic traditions established in Spain during the 14th and 15th
centuries. The new immigrants from Germany arriving here since
1848 faced a totally different situation. Dominated in their thinking
by the Age of Enlightenment, they embarked upon a life of freedom
never envisioned before by any J ewish group, and they were impatient
to bring about many changes. As Dr. D. Philipson put it, 'Whatever
makes us ridiculous before the world as it now is, may be and should
be abolished, and whatever tends to elevate the divine service to
inspire the heart of the worshipper and to attract him, should be
done without unnecessary delay." Music, of course, was one of the
first elements most vitally affected.

Aside from importing a few cantors (for instance J acob Fraenkel,
1808-1887, and Alois Kaiser, 1840-1908) the newly formed American
congregations, especially in the South, deleted all traces of their
musical inheritance and were perfectly willing to turn over the reigns
of music in the American Reform synagogue to Gentile organists
and music directors. These men set the prayers, with reverence and
dignity, to the best available church tunes and to some "traditional"
German tunes which they found in the Sulzer collections and in the
German-Jewish hymnals available in this country. The hymnal
edited by Alois Kaiser, which was published by the Central Confer-

The author, a graduate of Boston University and Harvard University, is
Professor of Composition at Eastman School of Music in Rochester, New
York. He was formerly Professor of Composition at North Texas State
University and Music Director at Temple Emanu-EI in Dallas, Texas. He is
the son of the late hazzan-composer, Hugo C. Adler.

Roger Staum is a graduate of Harvard College with a Master in Music
from the Manhattan School of Music and currently a senior at the Cantors
Institute. He serves as Hazzan at the J ewish Community Center of Summit,
New J ersey.

ence of American Rabbis in 1897, contained two tunes each by Sulzer
and Lewandowski, and one by Kirschner; the rest were adaptations of
German, French, and English church hymns. The only Jewish
musician who was able to gain any acclaim during this period was
Sigmund Schlesinger. Born and educated in Germany, he came
to America in i860 and settled in Mobile, Alabama. There he served
the Reform congregation for 40 years and composed all the choir
responses and prayers contained in the Union (Reform) Prayer
Book. Regrettably, his influence lingers into our time. His com-
positions are of mediocre quality, borrowing heavily from the music
of the Lutheran church (for melodies in the major mode) and from
18th century Italian opera (for melodies in the minor Mode. A bit
better musically, and more attentive to J ewish tradition were his
contemporaries Sparger, Stark, and Grauman.

Four events in American J ewish life changed this situation. (1)
The great migration of Eastern European J ews to this country; they
brought with them their traditional music which through some
talented musicians among their group found its way into the Reform
movement of America as did, in fact, many of their number during
the early part of this century. (2) The scholarship of A.Z. Idelsohn
who published his 'Thesaurus of Hebrew-Oriental Melodies in ten
volumes, a veritable treasurehouse of tunes collected in Europe and
the Middle East. (3) The excellent training of young American
Jews, the sons of immigrants who, through a renewed interest in
music by the American reform and conservative movements, were able
to find positions as music directors in temples and synagogues. (4)
The new immigration of German and other European Jews fleeing
Hitler's advance and bringing with them a great knowledge of tra-
dition as well as an excellent education in music.

These points may be summarized by saying that an interest in
the musicological studies of ancient Jewish chants by Idelsohn,
Werner, and Yasser, as well as a genuine flowering and pride of the
American J ewish community led to a movement devoted to the
promulgation of a liturgical music for the synagogue that is mean-
ingful, contemporary, and yet traditional.

Two general problems present themselves immediately to the
composer of today's Jewish liturgical music: the choice of "tra-
ditional" melodic material and the ever present enigma of suitable
harmony. An examination of these problems is imperative in this
discussion.

Through the research into the trope and its usage throughout
the world, and by an analysis of J ewish song both in and out of the

synagogue for the past three or four hundred years, it has been con-
cluded that the bulk of our liturgical material seems to be based on
three modes which, having originated in the recitation of the syna-
gogue prayer, were given names of prayer chants:

1. The "Adonoy Moloch" mode (The Lord Reigneth) derives
its name from the 93rd Psalm which is one of the opening psalms
of the Friday eve liturgy. It is a modified Mixolydian scale with a
major third and a minor tenth. The two forms of the third based
on the final c and of the second approaching the final c are not inter-
changeable. This mode is traditionally used for the psalms of praise
in the Sabbath eve liturgy and in the prayers of the High Holy Days;
it has a strong "outgoing" quality.

2. The "Mogen Ovos" mode (Shield of the Fathers) takes its
name also from a prayer found in the Sabbath eve liturgy. It is a
"pure" mode formed after the Aeolian scale. The prayers set to this
mode are usually of a quiet, reflective, and peaceful mood.

3. The "Ahavoh Rabboh" mode (With Great Love) is the only
one to which no Biblical chant derivation can be attributed. It
might be considered a modified Phrygian scale.

The name is derived from a prayer in the Sabbath morning
liturgy which has been widely and even indiscriminately used. The
mode has its origin in Eastern European folk music; rather than
having been engendered by synagogue song it was superimposed
upon it by the cantors of this area. Regrettably, it is the mode most
frequently used, and thus the sound of the augmented second is
superficially equated with Jewish liturgical music. Its popularity
is further enhanced by its frequent appearance in the popular folk
songs of Eastern Europe especially those of the Chasidim.

It must be pointed out that the concept of a mode is not the
same as that of a scale. The term mode, to quote Isadore Freed,

"is to be understood as applying to certain melismatic patterns
within a fixed scale, as well as to the special devotional mood inherent
in the prayers for which a given mode is used."

This, then, is the first source of tradition to which the modern
composer has been able to turn, as is evidenced by excellent examples
of liturgical music of American synagogue composers whose inspiration
has been guided by the characteristics inherent in these modes.

SfSHB^ggri^^^^^^Bp

Mogen Ovos (Shield of the Fathers) Mogen Ovos mode
from "Nachlat Israel" by Hugo Ch. Adlcr

lion, New York. Quoted

The choice of melodic material is not entirely limited to these
modal patterns though it may be related to them. There are three
other general possibilities:

(1) Settings of prayers, especially those containing passages from
the Bible, to actual Biblical tropes.

Copyright v

V'ohavto

w&?H -T i-^m^^t

i fron f\rilSjTjj]jj j.rfrf %

(2) Arrangements and adaptations of melodies evolving from
the oral traditions in the diverse countries where the Jews were
scattered.

L'cho Dodi (Beloved come) Portuguese Tradition
from "Avodat Shabbat," Friday Evening Service by
Herman Bcrlinski

(3) Original tunes utilizing freely elements of all of the men-
tioned sources and offering, of course, the finest possibility for
genuine achievement to a composer of liturgical music.

Tov L'hodas (Psalm 92) f.oin "Avodat Shabbat" by Herbert Kromm

In turning to the second general problem in the composition of
works for the American synagogue, that of harmony, it has to be
remembered that chant by its very nature and function calls for
unison singing and thus defies treatment by traditional harmonic
devices which grew up during the "common practice period." 19th
century J ewish composers such as Lewandowsky, Sulzer, Weintraub,
and Gerovitch, were overwhelmed by this seeming enigma, and
simply compromised their lack of knowledge concerning modal struc-
ture by setting traditional chants to the only kind of harmony they
knew, Romantic harmony. More often than not they changed the
modal character of the tune by adding their kind of "musica ficta,"

a major dominant chord which they found was nonexistent in any of
the traditional modes. If they left the chant in its original form,
they fumbled aimlessly with cumbersome modulatory devices. Not
so the composer of the 20th century. Well versed in contemporary
harmony as well as in the contrapuntal devices of the 16th century
and earlier periods, he proved himself more able in handling the
problem of harmony connected with modal melodies and chants,
and through a study of the music by recent synagogue composers,
some interesting harmonic and contrapuntal trends emerge.

(1) Sparse harmonic treatment which is, of course, a reaction
against the tyranny of the continuously "fat" four part harmony of
our 19th century pioneers. The treatment of melismatic as well as
syllabic chants in two or three parts provides a harmonic structure
which gives the melody a chance to crystallize.

Grant Us Peace from "Aclath Israel" by Herbert F.

Tzur Yisrocl (lWk of Israel) fn.m "S.u red Service" by Ernest Bloch

colld /uric

A and a

(2) The use of extensive unison or octave passages allowing
free reign for an implied harmony by overtones, and a new type of
organum and fauxbourdon which lends the modal song a much
stronger interpretation.

Yism' chu from "Adath Israel" by Herbert Fromm

-WTErrT g rrvm

Tov L'hodos (Psalm 92) by Lazare Saminsky

(3) Apparent abandonment of traditional harmonic treatment
by some of our foremost composers who have substituted purely con-
trapuntal devices that aptly fit the character of traditional melodies.

\m

Quoted

(4) A sensitivity for modal harmony by which our composers
have been able to clothe both the inspiring chant and the common-
place pseudo-oriental melody with dignified and elevating harmonic
setting.

V'shonmi from "S:il>hatli I'.vr Lituix>" by Hi-inrirh Schnlil

m4m^mmp^M

11

This necessarily incomplete expose of the "American Birth" of
Jewish music should give the impression of a wonderful, strong spirit
which has pervaded the American synagogue. At the inception of this
discussion, I noted disparaging rather than encouraging elements,
and I should like to examine these further in my conclusion. I men-
tioned at the outset that even though prolific activity dominates
the Jewish musical scene, the authors of the new Jewish liturgical
music have not succeeded in assuring for their work a following of
properly trained young people able to carry on what they have begun.
The loss of Isadore Freed, Max Helfman, Leo Low, Lazare Saminsky,
my late father Hugo Ch. Adler, and others leaves a void which is
not being filled. Some of the other leaders of this movement such as
A. W. Binder, Julius Chajes, Herbert Fromm, Heinrich Schalit, and
Lazar Weiner are no longer directly engaged in the training of com-
posers to take up their burden in the future. It worries me that there
are so very few young men in the field who seem to comprehend
what has been done. There is much music written for the synagogue
by men merely concerned with the contentment and happiness of
the congregation, and unfortunately there is also a large portion of
the Jewish clergy which considers the music of the synagogue noth-
ing but an opiate to lull the congregation into a sense of nostalgic
and pleasurable security.

There are three specific influences on Jewish music today which,
in my estimation, are most dangerous. The first of these is that of
show tunes and the typical harmonic language of the Second Avenue
Yiddish Stage. Its music has been popularized by some of our leading
opera singers whose endorsement has suggested a cultivation of tradi-
tional Jewish music. Such men as Sholom Secunda and Richard
Tucker have contributed to this impression. The second influence
which I consider dangerous is that of adaptation of 18th and 19th
century folk songs, especially Chassidic folk songs, in the service of
the American synagogue. This statement needs qualification for a
certain adaptation of Chassidic religious material to a contemporary
idiom is certainly legitimate. Isadore Freed's and Lazar Weiner's
Chassidic Services contain many excellent tunes and settings. I am
referring in particular to the use of secular songs and the "accom-
paniment" of clapping and stamping customary in Chassidic music
and to the practice of setting sacred words to the accompaniment
of rousing dance rhythms (with the syllables, la la la bim hom, etc.,
such as so cleverly used by Charles Davidson in his Chassidic Serv-
ice). These might possibly he of some fol kloristi r-historic interest,

12

but they certainly do not fit into the American synagogue even
though a large segment of the congregation, greatly influenced by the
national excitement about folk music, may be simply delighted. Our
children are taught these tunes around the campfire and are led to
believe that this is the only real J ewish music. A final detriment is
the vast amount of published music written by men who have no
knowledge of composition but who compose because of misguided
encouragement from congregations and friends, and also by men who
have no knowledge of or concern for the American synagogue but are
simply commissioned by congregations. I certainly do not refer to
Ernest Bloch or Darius Milhaud, both of whom wrote Services in the
noblest J ewish tradition which, I am sure, will go down in the his-
tory of music as some of the loftiest interpretations of our liturgy.
But I wish to single out those cantors and rabbis who perpetuate
in their congregation the poorest type of musical tradition by writing
down "lovely" melodies which the congregations, after several thou-
sand hearings, come to embrace so dearly that they pay to have
them published for all the world to share. Then no one dares criticize
these compositions since they may be the work of rabbis, cantors or
music directors of leading synagogues in our country. Usually they
are easy to perform, and for this reason alone they replace, especially
in many smaller congregations, the fine works of such composers as
Fromm, Schalit, Freed, Binder, Berlinski, and others.

I think that in this connection, a word is also in order regarding
the activities and works of Israeli composers for the American syna-
gogue. Almost all of the established Israeli composers seem ignorant
of and unsympathetic to the traditions, needs, problems, and values
of the American J ewish community, and in my opinion their contri-
bution to the literature of the American synagogue is negligible and
of no use. As a matter of fact, its existence may be considered harm-
ful for two reasons: One is that no one dares criticize their music-
because these men are Israelis, the J ewish musician is apt to think
that they represent an authentic tradition and feels a "patriotic"
duty to perform their music. The truth of the matter is that most
Israeli composers were trained by Europeans and know or care very
little about the traditions of the synagogue. Their excellence in the
secular field notwithstanding, the younger Israeli composers, espe-
cially, are almost, completely ignorant of synagogue music in America
and of the origins of our musical heritage.

An apt motto for the music of the American synagogue may be
borrowed from T. S. Eliot's Quartet: "Last year's voice demands
another language." Men of deep conviction and sound musical back-

13

ground have struggled diligently to create the new language in music
that interpreted yesterday's voice. Their effort must not be in vain.
It cries out to he constantly nourished. In order to serve this task,
two things, finally, are needed: A system, or a single institute, for
the training of young composers who can perpetuate the fine tradi-
tion of J ewish music; and a journal which must undertake the
thankless yet important task of scrutinizing and evaluating all new
publications so that the preponderance of unworthy material may be
averted. Then only will the hope of "a new song" sung to God be
realized in our country.

SYNAGOGUE MUSIC IN EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY AMSTERDAM

Roger STAUM
Introductory Note

This article is based on part of the doctoral dissertation of Israel Adler,
entitled La Pratique Musicale Savante dans Quelques Communautes J uives
en Europe auxXVIIe etXVIIIe Siecles (Mouton et Cie. : Paris, 1966). All
quotes from this book are my own translation from the original French. For the
sake of clarity and smoothness, many quotes are interpreted freely rather
than translated literally. Most of the compositions mentioned in this article
have been published in a series of pamphlets by Israeli Music Publications,
Ltd., catalogue nos. 704-709, as well as in volume two of the dissertation. I
am deeply indebted to Dr. Adler, and hope that this article will help to make
the results of his research accessible to those unable to read the original.
I would also like to thank Dr. Albert Weisser of the Cantors Institute faculty,
J ewish Theological Seminary, for the encouragement and advice he gave me in
writing this article.

Israel Adler's dissertation Learned Musical Practice in Certain
J ewish Communities in Europe in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth
Centuries concerns aspects of Jewish religious art music that are
not generally well known. This article will briefly summarize Adler's
major observations, and then outline his findings in the specific case
of the Sephardic community of Amsterdam.

Before the publication of Adler's study, most scholars believed
that "in the first half of the seventeenth century, a reformist move-
ment aimed at introducing art music into the synagogue was formed
around the figures of Salomon Rossi and Leon of Modena; an
'experiment' which did not last beyond 1650, this movement was
condemned to disappear with its partisans before rabbinic oppo-
sition, to revive only with the Emancipation of the J ews at the be-
ginning of the nineteenth century or a few decades before" (p. 1).
Some of these scholars — notably A. Z. Idelsohn and Eric Werner
— saw a connection between the music of Rossi and the nineteenth-
century synagogue choral music growing out of the Reform move-
ment (p. 2). The few examples of polyphonic synagogue music
from the second half of the seventeenth and from the eighteenth
centuries were dismissed by these scholars as isolated, insignificant
efforts (p. 2).

As a result of his research, Adler proposes a different hypo-
thesis: that Jews were active in the composition and performance
of serious art music in various cultural centers in Europe from the

Roger Staum graduated from Harvard College with a BA in 1969 and
from the Manhattan School of Music in 1972. He is now a senior at Cantors
Institute of the J ewish Theological Seminary of America and serves as
Acting Cantor of the J ewish Community Center of Summit, New J ersey.

15

fifteenth century on (p. 1). During the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries, at the height of the Renaissance, J ewish musicians con-
centrated their efforts in the larger, Christian world. With the ad-
vent of the Counter-Reformation and the enforcement of ghetto
restrictions throughout much of Europe, Jewish musicians turned
to the synagogue as an outlet for their talents (pp. 238, 239). The
rabbinic opposition to J ewish art music cited by previous scholars
was, according to Adler, directed more at the participation of J ewish
musicians in the secular sphere than at synagogue music (pp. 4,
11). Adler supports this hypothesis through the description or presen-
tation of documents containing music and (equally as important and
far more numerous) literary references to musical performances, from
various J ewish communities in northern Italy, southern France, and
Amsterdam, dating from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
Moreover, Adler finds little in common between the music of these
communities and the flourishing of J ewish choral music in nineteenth-
century central Europe. Jewish isolation from outside culture had
generally been more complete in central Europe than in the above-
mentioned areas of western and southern Europe. Adler views the
efforts of Sulzer, Lewandowski, et al. as a relatively sudden rebellion
against traditional synagogue music. In northern Italy, southern
France, and Amsterdam, by contrast, polyphonic synagogue music
had a longer history, and was less controversial and revolutionary
(p. 238).

When the northern provinces of the Netherlands were freed from
Spanish rule (the Twelve Years' Truce, 1609), they became a refuge
for Marranos from the Iberian peninsula, especially from Portugal.
Although there was an influx of Ashkenazic J ews from central and
eastern Europe as well, the Sephardic community remained dominant
economically and culturally (and probably numerically) (p. 191).

It appears that music was an important part of the life of the
Sephardic community of Amsterdam. It was a mark of considerable
distinction for a rabbi to be musically knowledgeable or talented (p.
193). "One of the few notations of biblical canti Nation made by J ews
in the seventeenth century is owed to an Amsterdam physician and
officer of the community, David de Pinna" (p. 194). Adler's research
never discovered references to regular, organized choral participation
in Sabbath or Festival services in Amsterdam during the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries. (This generalization applies to Italy and
France as well) (pp. 206, 237). The performance of choral and in-
strumental music was apparently restricted to special occasions.
Religious dialogues and plays with vocal or instrumental interludes

16

were performed in the synagogue before 1639, at which time they
were prohibited in the synagogue and performed elsewhere (p. 197).
Among the opportunities for the composition and performance of
religious art music were the inaugurations of the Great Synagogue
of Amsterdam in 1675 (p. 197) and the Hague synagogue in 1726
(p. 207); the arrival in the community of important non-Jewish
visitors (p. 206); the annual celebrations of the founding dates of
religious brotherhoods (hevrot) (p. 207); family celebrations, such
as weddings and circumcisions (p. 209); Simhat Torah, for which
occasion during the seventeenth century the hatan torah and hatan
b'reshit, chosen because of their financial contributions to the com-
munity, were "accompanied after the service with great pomp through
the streets of Amsterdam and welcomed with poems specially com-
posed in their honor and set to music" (pp. 200, 201), and for which
during the eighteenth century such music was actually performed
in concert inside the synagogue (p. 202); and contests for vacant
cantorial positions (p. 204). The texts used for these compositions
were psalms, prayers, and contemporary Hebrew poetry, the latter
frequently commissioned for specific occasions.

Unfortunately, no religious art music of the Amsterdam com-
munity dating from the seventeenth century has been found (p. 197).
We know that such compositions did exist because of documentary
descriptions of their performance, and because the poetry set by the
composers has survived. Before the appearance of Adler's disserta-
tion, only two eighteenth-century compositions of the Amsterdam
community had been published: the "Le-el elim" of Caceres by H.
Krieg in 1951, and the "Kol han-nesamah" of Lidarti by Eduard
Birnbaum in 1899. [In 1962 Adler was able "to research and organize
a complete inventory of the music manuscripts preserved in: a) the
library of the seminary of this community, Ets-Haim, to which was
added in 1899 the collection of the librarian of Ets-Haim; D.
Montezinos; b) the secretariat of the community, whose premises are
located, as is the library of Ets-Haim, in the annex of the Great
Synagogue of the Rapenburgerstraat" (p. 213).] Adler found five
manuscripts, each containing several compositions, from the eigh-
teenth century, as well as works from the nineteenth and twentieth
centuries. The composers of the eighteenth-century compositions are
Abraham Caceres, Cristiano Giuseppe Lidarti, Abraham Rathom de
Londres, M. Mani, and anonymous (pp. 214-220).

Apparently no biographical data for Abraham Caceres is avail-
able, and only three of his compositions have been found, although
Adler feels certain that his output was considerably greater (p. 223).

17

His name was first mentioned in 1718 as composer of music for the
anniversary of the founding of a religious brotherhood, and in 1726 as
composer of music for the inauguration of the Hague synagogue (p.
223).

The cantata "Le-el elim", previously mentioned, was composed
by Caceres for Simhat Torah in 1738. It is scored for two soprano
voices and basso continuo. 'The two singers, whose names we know
and who were cantors in the community, sang in falsetto; they were
certainly not castrati" (pp. 223-225). They were accompanied by
Caceres himself, although we do not know what instrument he
played (p, 202). The cantata is a setting of five strophes of a poem,
each strophe for either solo voice or duet (p. 203). It consists of a
suite of arias; there are no recitatives or instrumental preludes or
interludes (pp. 224, 225). Adler points out that Pergolesi's "Stabat
Mater" (1736) may have been a model for Caceres' cantata. Both
works share "the form of alternating arias for solo and duet, ...
certain melodic traits, ... and brief initial imitative figures at a
distance of a measure or less from each other" (p. 226). The Italian
bel canto style is the dominant influence in this cantata as well as in
most of the works Adler examined from this period (pp. 226, 235).
Eric Werner, who recorded excerpts from "Le-el elim" on a record
around 1945 (p. 224), "noted the use in this work of three traditional
motifs . . . from the Ashkenazic liturgical chant of eastern Europe.
It is difficult to know whether this is a case of fortuitous melodic
similarities or the deliberate intention of the composer, who would
moreover have been in a position to be familiar with the Ashkenazic
liturgy (i.e., nusach) of eastern Europe because of the cantors of
Polish origin who were then officiating in the Ashkenazic community
of Amsterdam", (p. 227).

Besides this cantata, the only extant compositions of Caceres
are "Hisqi hizqi" for three voices, with instruments doubling the
voices; and "Ham-mesiah" for two voices and basso continuo, with
two violins doubling the vocal lines (p. 227). The former is a fairly
interesting piece of 41 measures, containing, however, jarring parallel
fourths in m. 31 and awkward passing dissonances in m. 35. The
latter was printed for the first time in the second volume of Adler's
dissertation. The vocal parts are for soprano and alto or two altos,
again doubtless sung by men in falsetto. The length of the piece is
only 25 measures.

Caceres' influence on the musical life of the Sephardic com-
munity of Amsterdam is evident from "the numerous subsequent uses
of his music, either in the form of adaptations of different parts of
his cantata 'Le-el elim' with other words or through imitations

18

of this cantata" (p. 224). Adler concludes: "To the extent that one
can judge the temperament of a composer from these few examples
of his work, it appears that Caceres was not fond of strong emotions"
(p. 227). His major concern was a "gracious melodic line". "Caceres
gives us the impression of a respectable musician or of an amateur
well-grounded in his avocation" (p. 228).

Unlike Caceres, Cristiano Giuseppe Lidarti was Christian and
fairly well known in music history. He was born in Venice in 1730.
His date of death is unknown, but his last composition is dated
1793 (p. 228). He wrote a number of instrumental and vocal compo-
sitions in addition to his J ewish works (p. 229).

Volume two of the dissertation contains five works by Lidarti,
of which four are published for the first time. These include: 1)
"Nora Elohim" (last verse of Psalm 68), for two tenors (doubled
by violins), bass (doubled by viola), and basso continue 49 meas-
ures; 2) "Ham-mesiah" scored for the same combination as is the
the setting of this text by Caceres, and 32 measures in length; 3)
"Be-fi yesarim", for soprano, alto, tenor, bass, two violins, viola, and
basso continue in which the string parts are largely independent of
the vocal lines, 69 measures; 4) "Bo'i be-salom", for soprano, two
violins, and basso continue in which the first violin doubles the
soprano much of the time, and which is divided into three parts, each
repeating the same text: a) adagio (31 measures) b) allegretto
(28 measures) c) piu allegro (29 measures) ; and 5) "Kol han-
nesamah", also for soprano, two violins, and basso continuo, in two
parts: a) adagio assai (33 measures) b) allegro spirituoso — adagio
— allegretto — allegro (130 measures),

Although records of cantorial competitions held in Amsterdam
in 1772 mention that compositions by Lidarti were among those
sung, there is no evidence that the composer was ever in Amsterdam
or had any contact with the J ewish community (p. 229). This,
along with Lidarti's religion, might lead to the suspicion that J ews
in Amsterdam set Hebrew texts to music originally intended by the
composer for other purposes. This might be possible in the case of
"Ham-mesiah", in which "the way the words are set to the music
... is in effect fairly neutral, and where the several imitative entries
... do not rule out the hypothesis of an adaptation of these few
words (eight in all) to a pre-existing music, especially when one takes
into account that the latter comprises essentially notes of long
value (half notes and whole notes in 3/2 meter). This hypothesis is
already more difficult for the chorus , . . 'Nora Elohim' ... Here
the entries in imitation are more varied and occasionally rather close;
they consistently agree with the sense and pronunciation of the

19

Hebrew words . . Similarly one finds, in the two cantatas for solo
voice 'Bo'i be-salom' ... and 'Kol han-nesamah' ... a perfect
adaptation of the words to the music, which seems to imply a musical
composition specially created for these texts But above all it is
the arrangement of the chorus 'Be-fi yesarim' ... which compels us
to discard the hypothesis of an adaptation of words subsequent to
the conception of the work" (pp. 229, 230). Adler supports this
viewpoint with a structural and stylistic analysis of this work too
involved to include in this article.

Lidarti's style includes a combination of homophonic and imi-
tative writing. His simple, but interesting harmony, is usually subor-
dinated to the melodic line. Modulations to neighboring tones and
to the major third below the tonic are frequent. Harmonic devices
such as the diminished seventh and Neapolitan sixth chords, retarda-
tion, and various chromaticisms are used with little apparent con-
nection with the text (pp. 231, 232).

According to Adler, "the works of this composer are clearly
superior to those of a Caceres, and are even better compared to the
other minor works in the repertory of this community" (p. 231).
Adler makes no conjecture concerning the reason or motivation
Lidarti may have had in writing these J ewish works, no doubt be-
cause there is insufficient evidence at present for any hypothesis.

Abraham Rathom de Londres is represented in the musical
repertory of the Amsterdam Sephardic community by an "Adon
olam" for two voices (tenor or baritone, and baritone or bass)
unaccompanied, published in volume two of the dissertation, and
one other piece for solo voice. There is no other reference to him in
the records of the community. It seems likely that Rathom was the
son of a shammos in the London Sephardic synagogue. 'These
pieces lead us to assume that we are dealing with a minor dilettante,"
concludes Adler (pp. 232, 233).

One of the compositions of M. Mani (his first name is unknown)
was sung in the cantorial competition of 1772. Eight of his works,
dating from 1772 to 1791, have been preserved in the Great Syna-
gogue annex. Adler was unable to find any biographical information
concerning this composer. "He seems to have been a local musician,
with a reputation in his own time similar to that of his predecessor
Caceres. But he is less gifted than the latter, and his writing is most
often dull, simplistic, and careless" (p. 233).

Of the many anonymous pieces, most are for solo voice (p.
234). Adler believes that these are largely simplified arrangements
of earlier choral works (p. 213). Only one contains a traditional
J ewish chant — the Ashkenazic melody for the qinah sung on the

20

ninth of Av (p. 234). Christian influence is noticeable in some of
these works. "Four of the anonymous pieces ... are psalms done
according to the model of the Protestant chorale ... The words of
one of these psalms . . . are even given in Dutch translation"
(p. 235). One of the anonymous compositions is an echo poem, the
first such of a Hebrew text set to music since Rossi's Wedding Ode
in Hashirim (p. 235). Adler has included a brief (16 measures)
anonymous piece — "Hal lei d'ltalia (Pit'chu li sha'arei tsedek) "
for three voices a cappella — in the second volume of his disserta-
tion. This piece has so many harmonic errors that Adler found it
impossible to reconstruct satisfactorily. The Israeli Music Publica-
tion pamphlets include the above-mentioned qinah and a Kol han-
nesamah for solo voice.

It is clear that, at least in the case of the Sephardic community
of Amsterdam, Adler has proven his point that there was consider-
able religious art music composed and performed in the eighteenth
century. Many questions still remain; further research is needed in
this area, especially if new manuscripts are discovered. A number of
these pieces, especially those of Caceres and Lidarti, deserve to be
performed and to take their proper place in the Jewish musical
repertory.

Sing your song

I n the forest of sounds.

Raise your voice

Over the howl

Of modernity

And the anguish of the past.

Si ng to the Lord, H azzan,

Let Him hear you.

PraiseHim

In the anxiety

Of your composition —

Yet drive

Into your melody

Some sad rebuke

Of Eternity.

Why are you
So trustful,
H azzan,
As you repeat
The prayers?
Why do you sing
So confidently

The refrains of yesteryear
And the echoes
Of an age
that is gone?

Sing of death and triumph —

Sing of despair and hope —

Sing of the glory of Israel

Si ng of the M accabees and M asada

Sing of Warsaw and the Wailing Wall

Sing of the dark and twilight

Sing of the dawn.

sing to the people,
H azzan.

Perhaps they will answer
When Adonai slumbers.

Human Shofar

Of the faith,

Curve your note

On the staff

Of truth and challenge!

Mitchell Salem Fisher

JEWISH MUSIC AS A BRIDGE OF UNDERSTANDING

Ira P. Goldberg

Music, as we examine J ewish tradition, has much appeal to those
sensitive to its beauty, and moved by its ability to set into motion
vague stirrings within us. That aesthetic aspect of music is one
found in considering the value of music to the service, to the cele-
bration of various holidays, and to moments of joy, as well as sadness,
in J ewish life.

Our students enjoy the beauty of music, alone, when listening to
excellent recordings, or, perhaps, by playing a Jewish folk melody
on the ha///, or recorder. In a mood of havershaft, or friendship, they
may share with friends, the pleasure of listening to and singing
songs. At these times, they may accompany themselves on guitars,
or other instruments.

In an extension of these opportunities, students may derive
pleasure from the chance music gives them to perform, along with
their friends. Thus, a gifted student, able to play solo flute, may
"team up" with a friend, to perform Purim music for a local Hadas-
sah group. A group of pupils may form, with one providing the nar-
ration, while the others play and sing music from "Fiddler On The
Roof" at a local home for the aged.

Drawn from the experiences of this writer in a Hebrew High
School during the past two years, these examples of the satisfaction
derived from the pleasure of music-making all derive from the
aesthetic appeal of music. They show some of the ways in which we
appreciate music and bring that pleasure to others.

Though firmly appreciative of the beauty of music, and aware of
the great emotive power of music as it enhances and illustrates the
life of our people-in and out of the synagogue-this writer wishes
to suggest another approach, another method whereby music may be

Ira Goldberg is an experienced instructor of instrumental music in the
New York City public school system. He received his B.A. in Music Education
at Brooklyn College and an M.A. in the same subject at Queens College. Mr.
Goldberg, who is a string bass player, has been a member of the Dallas and
Pittsburgh Symphony orchestras as well as the Seventh Army Symphony
during his Army service. He is a member of the Executive Board of the
National Jewish Music Council for whom he compiled a three volume
"Bibliography of Instrumental Music of J ewish Interest." He has taught music
in several Jewish schools.

23

taught to our pupils. Through this method, our students may be
reached, and the aesthetic appeal of music will reach out to them as
well.

The truism that music reflects life, applies to our people too.
Folk music and art music have caught the spirit and values of
J ewish life, as well as events of our history. Through an understand-
ing and discussion of music, and texts of songs and larger vocal
works, one can reach out to students, to engage their interest and
lead to further understanding of J ewish life and experience, at the
very same time that we appeal to their apprehension of the beauty
of the music they experience.

This approach to music, with the second factor, teaching J ewish
life through Jewish music, always foremost, was utilized by this
writer, during two years as instructor of music at the Hebrew High
School of Temple Israel, of Great Neck, N. Y. The school, led by
Rabbi Efraim Warshaw, principal, was strongly influenced by some of
the most modern ideas and practices current in education. Noted for
its atmosphere of freedom, the school encouraged student participa-
tion in all levels of the high school.

As a result, student committees worked with teachers and ad-
ministrators, in preparing curricula from which all pupils constructed
their own courses of J ewish studies. In the planning of a new high
school building, student suggestions were a valuable contribution to
a structure which impressed everyone upon its completion. The
handsome new building made for an academic community in which
communication was encouraged, and cooperation in achieving educa-
tional goals was facilitated.

As a result, the school received national recognition from the
United Synagogue, expressing the admiration of the Conservative
movement.

An important part of the formal curriculum, music was also an
integral part of the life of the school community. Music was used as
a means of heightening the impact of school plays. It was a bridge,
whereby students reached out to the larger community outside the
school-students performed at a local Israel Fair, at a home for the
aged, in a children's ward at a nearby hospital.

Within the school, music was part of many formal functions — a
Freedom Seder, a Hasi die Service, celebrations of traditional holidays
such as Hanukkah and Purim, as well as newer days, such as Yom
Haatzmaut, Israel Independence Day, and Yom Hashoa, Holocaust
Day.

In the formal music classes, the subject taught as an effective

24

key to understand J ewish life. Carefully explained to the pupils, this
approach was uppermost in the minds of the students, as well as the
instructor. Of course, within that frame of reference, every endeavor
was made to bring music to the class that was attractive, satisfying
and appealing, as well as relevant.

In organizing the class, the students and instructor, together,
chose the topics of J ewish life to be studied. At first, this proved to
be a difficult task for the students. Accustomed to a more rigid,
authoritarian classroom atmosphere in which the teacher was the
primary source of knowledge and in which learning was more struc-
tured, the students often proved to be confused, at the start. Given
the opportunity to plan their own curriculum, to participate in de-
cisions affecting their own lives, the pupils floundered at the be-
ginning of the school year.

It soon became clear that with the first year students, it was
necessary to develop a feeling of a framework, within which the
music class was to develop. This frame had to be carefully explained
at the opening in some detail-in practice, it had to be reiterated
occasionally during the school year.

In meeting the class for the first time, the instructor discussed
the view that music is a reflection of life. Through it, one gains a
deeper insight into J ewish life, and into ourselves as part of J ewish
experience. Consonant with this view, the class had been organized to
investigate J ewish life through J ewish music, in areas of interest to
the students. Thus, the course became known as "Jewish Life
Through Music."

Having, so to speak, all of J ewish life thrown open to them,
the students proved to be somewhat bewildered at the embarassment
of riches that was theirs. The class proved unable to settle on topics
of interest and value; there was, instead, considerable confusion. It
proved most helpful for everyone for the instructor to prepare a list,
of a wide variety of suggested topics. With this list in hand, the
students were better enabled to suggest ideas and units of study,
with some taken from the list, and others, suggestions of their own.
After this initial confusion, there was some occasional groping but,
in the main, the class effectively organized its primary areas of study
for the year.

Interestingly enough, once the topics to be studied were chosen,
the students were content to leave the details of lesson preparation
and organization to the instructor. It was their view that it was
solely the teacher's responsibility to prepare the lesson, find appro-
priate songs, texts for discussion and other appropriate material.

25

Among the topics studied during the first year were these;

Hatikvah, music and history

Setting the Psalms to music, with examples by different com-
posers and peoples

The musical life of European J ewry, 1900-1933

Music of the Six Day War (1967)

The Music of Salomon Rossi, and settings of the Hanukkah song,
Maoz Tsur, from Germany and by Benedetto Marcello

The music of "Fiddler On The Roof" and the J ews of Eastern
Europe

Study of the halil (recorder)

A somewhat detailed discussion of the "Fiddler" unit illustrates
the approach utilized in the music class. The unit was divided into
various topics, each usually developing from a song, and leading to
consideration and discussion of material relating to the topic.

One unit was devoted to the song, "Matchmaker," first listened
to on a recording of songs of the musical, with students following the
words from copies of the text provided for them. In a short presenta-
tion based on the text, the instructor pointed out the twin desire
of the parents of the bride, that the groom bring money to the
marriage, as well as intellectual gifts, as expressed in the lines, "For
papa, make him a scholar, for mama, make him rich as a king .. ."

The class was also provided with a short written discussion of
the history of the Shadhan. Thus, the students came to understand
the role of the matchmaker as that of a preserver of J ewish life,
who had first come into being to preserve J ewish life in a Europe
in which the Crusaders, on their way to free Palestine, had decimated
thej ewish communities of Europe.

The topic concluded with a discussion of the manner in which
people meet and marry. There still are formal matchmakers in
Jewish life, as advertisements from the Yiddish press clearly indi-
cated. In addition, there are the "unofficial matchmakers," the
parents of Jewish boys and girls, community centers, local syna-
gogues, college Hillel foundations, all making it possible for J ewish
young people to meet, fall in love and marry.

The students concluded the discussion with their own views on
marriage, as seen from their evaluation of J ewish experience. Thus,
they touched upon intermarriage and considered, among themselves,
the role their decision played, in the preservation of the J ewish com-
munity. For some, this was of paramount importance; for others,
marriage was to be considered without any thought being paid to the
religious identity of the person being married.

26

In another unit, based on the song, "If I Were A Rich Man,"
there was, after the usual listening to the recording of the song, a
discussion of the problem of the role of money in one's life. I n a short
presentation, the author outlined the problem that money represents
to people, at times. For some, striking some kind of balance between
having "too little," or, "too much," is a difficult problem.

For Tevye, the problem is the poverty of the life he leads, the
constant search for the economic means to survive. In his song,
Tevye expresses the wish that he might have money, to enjoy a more
comfortable life, and that his wife Golde, might enjoy a better life
as well. Furthermore, Tevye is seen as one who wishes for more
than mere creature comfort. For him, money would bean instrument,
making it possible for him to study the Torah. Tevye tells us that if
he were rich, he would have time to sit in the synagogue and pray,
and discuss the "holy books" with other men at the synagogue —
for him, this would be "the sweetest thing of all."

From the class discussion, it was a short step to explain that
life in the Pale of Settlement was filled with harsh, grinding poverty
for many of the J ews living within its borders. That poverty was
limned for the students through a reading of the short story, "A
Gruesome Question," by Isaac Bashevis Singer, from his book, In
My Father's Court.

The story told of a poor J ew, who appeared before the Bet Din,
presided over by the author's father, a rabbi. He shocked the rabbi
and his friends with his question, "Is a man permitted to sleep with
his dead wife?" The man's wife had died Friday, too late for burial
before the coming of Shabbat. In their hovel, little more than a
cave carved out of the ground at the base of a house in Warsaw, the
man remained awake the night long, loath to abandon the body of
the dead woman to the ever-hungry rats.

The man's gruesome questions, brought a gush of tears to the
rabbi's face, and the intensity of the tale was matched by the serious
attention given the story by the students, all of whom were deeply
moved by the author's masterful narration.

Other topics discussed in the lessons of this unit included the
Yiddish language, Marriage and the J ewish Wedding (inspired by
the song, "Sunrise, Sunset," plus, finally, the Sabbath, introduced by
the moving "Sabbath Prayer."

Another unit of interest for the first-year music students was
one devoted to the origin of the German Maoz Tsur, and a com-
parison with the setting of the same text, as written by the Italian
Gentile composer, Benedetto Marcello (1786-1739). As described in

27

his book, Jewish Music In Its Historic Development, by Abram Zvi
Idelsohn, the twin sources of the German setting are a German
secular song, the Benzenauer, and a Martin Luther chorale, Nun
freut euch ihr lieben Christen (Now rejoice dear Christians).
In the mind of some member of the ghetto, the two melodies were
combi ned i nto one song.

Benedetto Marcel lo, on the other hand, was one of many Gentile
musicians who enjoyed visiting the Venice synagogue, where the
elevated musical performances attracted many non-J ews. Presum-
ably influenced by the music heard at the synagogue, Marcello set
Maoz Tsur to music.

A third musician considered in this unit, Salomon Rossi, was
active in the court life of Mantua. Born in 1570, and the composer
of much fine art music, his J ewish compositions show no attempt to
adhere to Jewish tradition. In 1628, Austrian troops conquered
Mantua — from that date, all trace of Rossi simply vanished.

In the class discussion that followed, the instructor pointed out
that J ews, as a minority, always have to consider and evaluate their
adherence to tradition, observance of customs and religious prac-
tices. Ahad Ha'am, eighteenth century J ewish thinker, discussed
this very point in his essay,"l imitation and Assimilation:) when he
wrote,

We use the term Imitation, generally in a depreciatory

sense, to indicate that which a man says, does, thinks, or feels,

not out of his own inner life, as an inevitable consequence of

his spiritual condition and his relation to the external world,

but by virtue of his ingrained tendency to make himself like

others, and to be this or that because others are this or that.

In a sense, Ahad Ha'am was discussing precisely that which our

youngsters consider when they talk about "doing your own thing."

I n the class, the words of the great J ewish thinker served as a key, to

the evaluation of Jewish acts and attitudes, including their own,

and certainly, the music discussed in this unit.

In the discussion of the music, the instructor further pointed
out that the British composer, Ralph Vaughn Williams, had said
that nationalism in music was good. Quoting Hubert Parry, the
English composer had said,

True Style comes not from the individual but from the products
of crowds of fellow-workers who sift and try and try again till
they have found the thing that suits their native taste ...
Style is ultimately national.

With these viewpoints serving as keys to understanding, the
pupils were enabled to consider the three works heard-by an anony-
mous J ew, by Bendetto Marcello and by Salomon Rossi, weighing each
as contributing or not, to the development of a national style.

During the first year — and again during the second — of music
instruction at the Hebrew High School, many of the students were
especially interested in the music discussed and heard in class. When
desiring to perform that music, alone or with others, for private en-
joyment or public performance, students were directed to arrange-
ments of the music they wished to perform or the music was arranged
by the instructor for them.

During the second year of music at the high school, the ex-
perience of their first year stood the students in good stead. At the
opening meeting of the second year musicclass, there was no fumbling
at all. Rather, suggestions for topics to be discussed were swiftly
forthcoming, and included many new and interesting ones, among
them,

The music of SefardicJ ewry

The music and history of German J ews

The coming of thej ews to America

The music and history of the J ews of the Soviet Union

The music of Israel

Bob Dylan

The last-named topic was of great interest to the students, and
a three-session unit discussed the folk singer-composer and his most
significant songs. Those listened to and discussed included Blowin'
In The Wind, The Times They Are A-Changin' and Father Of
Night.

Of great relevance and interest to the students was his attitude
toward his J ewish heritage which, for some of the pupils, came as
a distinct surprise. The classes were very interested in Bob Dylan's
life in the Midwest, and of his attendance at college, where he
changed his name from Robert Zimmerman to Bob Dylan. His later
return to J udaism and defense of his J ewishness, as well as his visits
to Israel, proved to be very important to the students.

Stimulated by Bob Dylan's varying attitude toward his J ewish-
ness, the students themselves discussed the entire problem of as-
similation and J ewish identity. Among matters considered were those
of concealing one's J ewish identity, changing one's name, intermar-
riage and conversion.

In evaluating the attitudes and actions of the singer, the stu-
dents were, of course, considering and clarifying their own values and
beliefs and attitudes, toward J udaism and their own place in the
J ewish people.

All of the music topics taught at the Hebrew High School of
Temple Israel, Great Neck, N. Y., were planned and participated in
by the students themselves, together with their instructor. The
planning and consideration, as well as the actual learning, were all
part of their vital experiences with J ewish music for two academic
years. Through meaningful participation in music, the students came
to see J ewish music as a relevant part of their lives and experience.
Furthermore, they came to that view without the traditional pres-
sures one finds so frequently in the academic experience. No longer
did the teacher fulfill the traditional role of autocratic leader of a
group of coerced students. I nstead, he had a new role, that of a guide
and aid, of one learning along with his students and, striving co-
operatively, to gain and to give to others, a deeper understanding
and appreciation of J ewish life and J ewish music.

SALOMONE ROSSI AND ClAUDIO MON1EVERDI-
MUSCAL COLLEAGUES AT THE MAN1UAN COURT

Daniel CHAZANOFF

This is the third in a series Of articles on the music of Salomone
Rossi. My. Chazanoffs studies on Rossi were made possible by a
grant from the National Foundation for Jewish Culture. The first
article appeared in the September 1970 issue of this Journal; the
second in the February 1971 issue.

An interesting feature of Rossi's life is found in his relationship
to Monteverdi. Saminsky says, "It is curious to see how Rossi's
artistic life was interwoven with that of the grandest composer of
Italy and one of the greatest musicians of all time, Claudio Monte-
Verdi ..." In discussing Salomone Rossi and Claudio Monteverdi as
musical colleagues it is this writer's intent to place the former in
proper historical perspective — something which is long overdue.

Essentially a vocally-oriented composer, Monteverdi wrote many
motets and madrigals which are among the finest examples written;
and he was the first great composer of operas. Curiously enough,
Monteverdi was the first to assemble the orchestra as an organized
body to accomodate the needs of opera. He was also the first to make
use of pizzicato (the plucking of strings) and tremelo (a trembling
sound caused by moving the bow back and forth rapidly) by the
strings. Was this Monteverdi's idea? Did he search for these new
techniques with Rossi; or did these come about as suggestions from
Rossi, founder of the first great school of violinists? (The reader
should know that Monteverdi was a. keyboard performer who con-
ducted his operas from the keyboard.) These questions remain un-
answered. Yet it is most likely that Rossi worked closely with Monte-
verdi in finding and applying these new effects.

Compared with Monteverdi, Rossi has remained rather obscure
outside of synagogue circles. In his own right, however, he was an

Dr. Daniel Chazanoff is the Director of Music for the City School District
of Rochester, New York. He has had almost 20 years experience as teacher,
conductor, performer and administrator from the third grade exploratory level
through college. He is a first-rate cellist, having served at the first desks in
the Birmingham Symphony, the Berkshire Music Festival and a number of
radio and television orchestras. He has written extensively in his field of
Early English Chamber music for strings and has orchestrations to his credit,
as well. He was a Delegate to the Eighth National Conference of the United
States National Commission for UNESCO. He is an active and participating
member of Rochester's Temple Beth El.

31

innovator, and a more versatile composer than Monteverdi. His
thirteen books of compositions published between 1589 and 1628
attest to this. I n the first place, Rossi made use of the basso continuo
in 1602; his Second Book of Madrigals for 5 Voices with basso con-
tinuo was published in that year. 2 This was three years before
Monteverdi, whose Fifth Book introduced madrigals over a continuo
accompaniment. 3 The basso continuo technique brought about a
change in texture which gave rise to the musical Baroque. While the
Renaissance madrigal was based upon individual voiced counterpoint,
the new madrigal was dependent upon harmonic progressions of the
bass line. Not only did Rossi make use of this idea in the writing
of the madrigals but also in his instrumental works. His four books
of instrumental pieces, all written between 1607 and 1622, became the
models which led to the sonata da chiesa, the sonata da camera and
the concerto grosso. The sonata 'detta la moderna' (called the mod-
ern), dated 1613, is a sonata da chiesa in miniature form, and the
first example of a four movement sonata in musical history. Its four
short sections are marked Grave, Vivace, Largo, Presto.

Both musicians served the Dukes of Mantua, but for different
lengths of time. Rossi served the court from 1587 to c. 1628, after
which no trace of him is found. His dates of service include the reigns
of Vincenzo I and Vincenzo II. It should be remembered that Rossi
was born in Mantua and served his entire professional life in that
city. Monteverdi, on the other hand, was born in Cremona in 1567,
and he served the Mantuan court from 1590 to 1612. 4 His period of
service, which began three years after Rossi's, almost coincides with
the reign of Vincenzo I (1587-1612). Thus were they musical col-
leagues at the court of the Gonzaga dukes for a period of twenty-
two years. When Monteverdi's patronage was discontinued by the
Gonzagas in 1612, he returned to his family's home in Cremona.
One year later, in 1613, he was appointed 'Maestro di Capella' at
St. Mark's Cathedral in Venice, a post which he held until his death
in 1643. 5 We can see that Rossi must have enjoyed the esteem
of the court if he was retained at a time when a musician of Monte-
Verdi's stature was released from service.

Gradenwitz speculates that Monteverdi "... must have been in
contact with Salomone Rossi and his musicians .." 6 during their
tenure as colleagues. We have ample evidence of this. (J ewish in-
strumentalists of the Mantuan Court, however, will be discussed as
another topic.) When the playwright Guarini presented his comedy,
L'ldropica, at court festivities on June 2, 1608, various Mantuan
composers were called upon to write music for the production.

32

Monteverdi composed the prologue, and Rossi, the firs-t of four
intermezzi which were inserted between the acts of the play.' It was
at this same wedding celebration that Rossi's sister distinguished her-
self when she sang a principal part in Monteverdi's opera, Arianna.
So moving was her performance that she became known as Madama
Europa after her role in that production. Another work for which
Rossi and Monteverdi wrote the music was the sacred play, La
Maddalena. Two other Mantuan composers, Muzio Efrem and Ales-
sandro Guivizzani are also represented in this work. 8

Several writers have suggested that Rossi studied with Marc'
Antonio Ingegneri, the teacher of Monteverdi. This is not likely since
Ingegneri was 'musicae perfectus' to the cathedral of Cremona, the
city of Monteverdi's birth. In studying with this master, Monte-
verdi exhibited an early mastery of vocal polyphonic writing. His
first compositions are dated 1582, 1583, and 1584, the first written
when he was only fifteen years old. It should be pointed out that he
was somewhat established as a composer when he left Cremona in
1590 for his appointment in Mantua, at the age of twenty-three.
If we look for the teacher of Rossi, it would have to be among those
in the vicinity of Mantua. Einstein suggests Giaches Wert, Bene-
detto Pallavicino, Giovanni Giacomo Gastoldi, and Monteverdi, as
possibilities, but he chooses Francesco Rovigo, a J ew or baptized
Jew, who was a rather important master living in Mantua without
any position. 10 While Einstein says that the name Rovigo ". , hint
at J ewish extraction ...,"" it is also, by coincidence, the name of
a provincial capital city in northern Italy. Monteverdi is definitely
ruled out as Rossi's teacher by virtue of the latter's first collection,
The First Book of Canzonettes for 3 Voices, published in 1589, one
year before Monteverdi arrived in Mantua. In any event, the teacher
of Rossi remains an enigma due to insufficient documentation.

This writer feels that the name of Rossi's first music teacher may
very well be found in the annals of Mantua's Jewish community,
whose synagogue contained 37 Torah scrolls. 12 A congregation which
acquired that many scrolls must have provided both a rabbi and
cantor. In this setting, as a descendant of a long line of Hebraic
scholars, Salomone Rossi's musical talent was nurtured from child-
hood as he learned to chant the Torah. In the process the cantor
of Mantua's synagogue was probably his first music teacher. Evidence
to support this theory is found in the works of a number of authors.
To cite but one, Alfred Sendrey refers to Rossi as ". . . the famous
hazzan-composer .. ,". 13 If Rossi was trained as a hazzan, then

33

certainly it began during his childhood in the synagogue, under
the guidance of a hazzan.

Rossi entered the service of the Mantuan dukes as both a singer
and an instrumentalist. 14 His voice training background is some-
what clarified, but not that of his instrumental and composition in-
struction. In the light of skills which Monteverdi and Rossi brought
to the court, the interrelationship of the two composers can be under-
stood. Monteverdi was also a singer and an instrumentalist, 15 but his
instrument was the keyboard, in contrast to Rossi, who was a viol
player. As late as 1622, Rossi was still listed as a viol player in official
court records at a yearly salary of 383 lire 16 This is a curious fact,
since his instrumental compositions of 1613, nine years earlier, called
for instruments of the violin family — an indication that Rossi had
abandoned the viols in writing for strings. But viol playing did not
cease immediately with the advent of compositions for the violin
family. Madrigals for voices and viol consorts continued to flourish
in the intimate setting of court chambers. It was in the realm of
the dramatic that violins 'caught on' immediately because of their
carrying power and dynamic range. Here, Monteverdi must have
influenced Rossi in seizing upon the new sound to heighten the
effect of opera. Yet, Rossi, on his own, realizing the potential of
the new family of instruments, fashioned the first important school
of violinists in both composition and performance. While it is said
that Monteverdi conducted his operas from the keyboard, he did
little more than coordinate the vocal and instrumental facets of his
productions. In presenting his operas he was at once faced with
playing the continuo parts and cuing both the singers and orchestra.
Rossi, in these situations acted as the orchestra's leader, or what we
now call the concertmaster, keeping the orchestral ensemble to-
gether.

One term which has been notably absent from any discussion of
Rossi's music is the motet. It was customary for composers, who
wrote madrigals during the Renaissance, to also compose motets.
Madrigals were secular polyphonic-contrapuntal songs, compared
with motets which were religious polyphonic-contrapuntal songs. The
interrelationship of Rossi and Monteverdi sheds some light upon this
question. We know of Monteverdi's madrigals and motets, yet we
hear only of Rossi's madrigals. Didn't the latter write motets?
While Monteverdi wrote motets for the religious services at court,
Rossi's religious compositions were written for the synagogue of
Mantua's Jewish community. The Hashirim Asher Lishlomo (The
Songs of Solomon) for 3 to 8 voices by Rossi, were, in reality, his

34

motets. This collection was by no means an accident, rather the
direct result of his creative need to write the religious counterpart of
the madrigal.

In reviewing Salomone Rossi and Claudio Monteverdi as mu-
sical colleagues of the Mantuan court, it should be known that
Rossi was among the first to apply monody in composing for instru-
ments of voices. He was also the earliest composer to write trio
sonatas and to specify instruments of the violin family.- These facts
establish him as one of the founders of the Italian Baroque. While
Rossi is known as the outstanding J ewish musician of the Renais-
sance, few people know of his daring in the areas of musical texture,
instrumental timbre, and musical form — all of which were important
in the formation of the period which followed.

FOOTNOTES

1. Lazare Saminsky, Music of the Ghetto and the Bible (New York: Bloch
Publishing Company, 1934), p. 166.

2. Claudio Sartori (ed.), Encidopedia ddla Musica (Milano: G. Ricordi and

Company, 1964), IV, 61.

3. Homer U I rich and Paul A. Pisk, A History of Music and Musical Style

(New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1963), p. 245

4 Eric Blom (ed.), Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians (London:
MacMillan and Company, 1954). V, 841.

6. Peter Gradenwitz, The Music of Israel (New York: W. W. Norton and

Company, 1949), p. 136.

7. Leo Schrade, Monteverdi, Creator of Modern Music (New York: W. W.

Norton and Company, 1950), p. 239.

8. Ibid, p. 305.

9. Blom, Ice. cit.

10. Alfred Einstein, Salamone Rossi as Composer of Madrigals (Cincinnati:
The Hebrew Union College Annual, 1950-51), XXIII, Part 2, p. 387-88).

11. Ibid, p. 388.

12. Alfred Sendrey, The Music of the J ews in the Diaspora (New York:
Thomas Yoseloff, 1970), p. 259.

13. Ibid, p. 241.

14. Schrade, op. cit., p. 165

15. Ibid

16. Cecil Roth, The J ews in the Renaissance (Philadelphia: The Jewish

Publication of America, 1959), p. 289.

THE SYNAGOGUE MUSIC OF BEN <

Michael ISAACSON

In his catalog of J ewish musical works, Ben Steinberg lists his
first publication date as 1961; his musical activities in the syna-
gogue, however, began in his childhood. Born in Winnipeg, Manitoba,
the son of the late Cantor Alexander Steinberg, Ben, at the age of
eight, sang in his father's choir as soloist. When he was twelve he
conducted his first synagogue choir and since then has made syna-
gogue music an integral part of his life. He is presently Music
Director of Temple Sinai in Toronto, Ontario, and along with his wife,
Machi, and two children, Ruth and David, is active in J ewish chil-
dren's camps both in America and Israel. In addition to his lecture-
recitals on Jewish music history, Steinberg has been director for
Jewish music programming on the C.B.C. His list of commissions
is long and impressive and his choral book 'Together Do They Sing"
won an award from the Conference of Temple Educators.

Ben Steinberg's music is representative of the man. While con-
servative, pragmatic and always well-mannered, it is also gratefully
mindful of its tradition in a deeply lyrical way. A wonderful example
of Steinberg's gift for melody is his wedding song, "V'erastich li"
and his complete background in hazzanut shows itself in both of his
Friday Evening Services.

The two services, "Pirchay Shir Kodesh" (Transcontinental)
and "L'cha Anu Shira" (manuscript) are in interesting contrast
with each other. The former, written in 1963, was inspired, the com-
poser tells us, by the improvisations of his father; yet the writing
is much more formal and classically influenced than the latter
service which soars in its improvisatory nature. The latter service
is also exclusively in Hebrew and uses more of the Conservative
liturgy. This same service (a wonderful showcase for the cantor)
has a remarkable Yemenite-Israeli influence in contrast to the more
austere writing in the former.

In all of his music, the melodies and harmonies are treated
more conservatively than the rhythmical aspects. In "Bish-mot
Hamelech Uziahu," 'The Visions of Isaiah," a recent work for
tenor, choir and organ, Steinberg's facility with text and rhythm is
apparent in his use of mixed meter, triplet expansion and dance-like
thematic development. All of his choral writing is based on long
experience with choirs and therefore is entirely accessible.

Perhaps the only negative criticism of Mr. Steinberg's music is
that at times it is too safe. Regrettably, the composer has limited

36

his writing to sacred music, where the opportunity and environment
for experimentation is practically non-existant. Mr. Steinberg should
be encouraged to broaden his composing situations so that the more
successful results of these aural experiments can be re-employed in
his synagogue music.

A complete list of the composer's synagogue music is listed be-
low and it is this writer's hope that many of the pieces now obtain-
able only in manuscript will soon be available in published form,
for Ben Steinberg's synagogue music is a vital and important ad-
dition to the repertoire.

SYNAGOGUE MUSIC BY BEN STEINBERG

Services

"Pirchay Shir Kodesh", Complete Friday Evening Service for Cantor

(med. voice) Choir and Organ, Transcontinental Music, 1963
"L'cha Anu Shira," Complete Friday Evening Service for Cantor (med.

voice) Choir and Organ, Manuscript, 1969
"Simchat Hash&bat," Sabbath Morning Torah Service for Cantor (Tenor)
Choir and Organ, Manuscript
Book: 'Together Do They Sing," Choral method for youth choirs, U.A.H.C.

1961
Single Pieces:

"L'chu N'ranenah," for Cantor (med. voice) Choir, Congregation and

Organ, Transcontinental Music, 1969
"R'tsay Adonai Elohenu," for a Cappella Choir, Israel Music Publications,

Box 6011, Tel Aviv, Israel, 1965
'The Vision of Isaiah," for soloist (tenor), Choir and Organ, Optional
Children's Chorus, 1970. Optional eight piece Wind and Percussion
Ensemble, Manuscript
"V'erastich Li," (Wedding Song), for Soloist (med. voice) and Organ

Optional Choir, Transcontinental, 1972
"Shiru Ladonai," for Cantor, Choir, Congregation and Organ Trans-
continental
'Tsion B'mishpat Tipadeh," for Cantor (tenor), Choir and Organ Manu-
script
Wedding Responses:

(B'ruchim Haba-im and Seven Blessings) for Cantor (Tenor) and Organ,
Optional Flute and String Quartet, Manuscript, 1972
"Yism'chu," for Choir and Organ, Manuscript 1965
"K'dushah," for Cantor (Tenor), Choir and Organ, Manuscript, 1965
"Mi Chamocha and Tsur Yisrael," for Cantor (Tenor) Choir and Organ,

Manuscript, 1969 (Sat. A.M.)
"Esa Enai, (Psalm 121), for Cantor (med. voice), Manuscript
"For He Satisfieth," for alto soloist and Organ, Manuscript
"Lift Up Your Heads," Choir and Organ, Manuscript

'T'hilat Adonai" (My mouth shall utter), Cantor, Choir and Organ, Manu-
script

MUSIC SECTION

We publish herewith several short excerpts from the "Lieder-
Zamelbuch far der Yiddisher Shul un Familieh," a very popular
anthology of religious and secular J ewish songs, well arranged and
published by the "J uwal Publication Society for Jewish Music"
which flourished in Berlin prior to the Holocaust. The collection con-
tains 83 songs for a three voice choir and soloist with piano accom-
paniment, edited by Z. Kiselgoff and arranged by A. Zhitomirski
and P. Lvov. The collection was prepared in Petersburg, Russia,
J anuary 1914 and ran through four editions.

We reprint herewith the section devoted to Sabbath songs and
the section devoted to the cantillation modes for Sabbaths, festivals
and fast days, as notated by H. N. Rosenbloom, the Baal Keriah
of the Great Shul of Petersburg. Also associated with the project as
translators were M. Rivesman (Yiddish) and Saul Tschernichowsky
(Hebrew).

The rest of the collection is devoted to secular songs. The
Editors, in the Forward to the volume, stress the point that in J ewish
life, secular and sacred songs are very closely interwoven and one
cannot be a complete J ew without knowledge of both.

u b n i [_» 2 h b n k s

4 r^sSs'is*

B BlTT" 1KB CEKI^Stin nl'IK^S-BJS ;3t JIB [IS'W

„JUWAL" Verlagsgesellrchaft fiir jiidische Huaik m. b. H.,
Berlin W62, Kleirtrtr. 29

Skarbowe Folkslieder. D^UrCp^S JjnSOlKpD

Scholojm alejchem! | . JTOn ^vbl2 ffsb^ Cib^

Arrangin fun A. Shitomirski. I .VcvaKl"^ .tt ',16 'eV»T:«f:tt

Andante. m.m.« = J

Adirbimlucho, I ,n3-lbt?3 T«1K

boohur kahalocho. -i^bro ' 1-1 ria

Andante, mm. 86= J '
Lanasam.

j Andante.

"^

Mo A. doj. noj ha. mam

■»•-'

ki

loj no.

[1

ki

loj jo . o._

/

'^ #_5 *

Ht.

—

* i^

1 f .

f r? t

rit.

.-.

T F

Zur mischelqj ochalnu. I .-U^K ibtfp 1-12

(Smirojs.) ' * (mvbij

Allegro moderate M.M.w
; pMessig gich.

Jqim sehabos kqjdesch hu. I .X-1H V)p r\2V CV

MU<-t-m<.ssi sl vn rukijj

W^=

fe^

W ^-p -= j.z- j£

t^r

Mnuelio w'simcho.

(Smirojs.)

.nnptyi nmao

46 6,

Eli, Zijojn, wejoreho. ■ -CH¥] FV ^K

Andaiito.M.M.5S=l

, Langsnm.mit harz.

Ejlijohu hanowi.

*r?:n irrba

Ism'chu w'malchuss'cho. .natf "Otpitf; JJiriabpa *noip

mgirt fun A. Shitomirs

J A — == -===

cretc. f

===—

j>, , ^~^

/T\

jLrp" [— _P P :

u.waschwi.i ro .

zi.aao boj

zi.B30 boj_

-•"-—-

3

f iJA djH

'--' ' ^ 3

^^ r

^ rJr'

^

ffi ^

f

^i^

i» rrt.

* »i ^

♦ — ■

T=f= =

vi/

Og-il wesmach
b' simehas tojro.

Allegro moderato. m.m

|*?e^^^|:.

mmmk

I

Mm

wm^

pm^mmm^^m^

l-kojr cha

pfepiiipprifi|ipipri

^iiiK^ffli^iiJlS-ii^^

10.

S s i s s u w'simchu j
b'shnchas tojro.

.mfri' hnefera

,z£-z=e:-—i

wmm

^*^^%^

= T^=f

i=*r

^Pm^^^m

pos u . mi _ pni - nim ,f . ko . ro no J gil w'. no . ssis b'_ sojs

o . ssi . mo tik . -wo . 3Si boj A .j ho; - do . mi b'_ sojd

mm

wm^mmm^mmmm

.im kroj . voj E'

~^ ▼ * »•

Ramawdil bojn
kojdesch 1'chojl.

binb Enp

fefe

^^*

#==^-?:;':-
"£=4^

*-^pi

wm^

rrf=i^

cha . toj . ssej . nu hu_ im . chnjl,

W^=*

^r^-^t-ntm

m$- .= i i m

it^Wsi^"

E jlijohu hanowi, ! ,503Jn -lil^R

Ejiijohu hatischbi. .^nn in^«

Manginas hat'omim drop), i .(£lpE> CCJJEn nrjJC

i.Batqiro. 80 - .ntiina

>_<><it>rato.f_4c/ libitum: (Nit s.htnng rifmwc/,)
Durg-o_. twlT^l Mer_chot.p_cl10sojfpo.5ITk Mu_naeh__ *._■_

4 J* titt^^£?&i m *

^t^i*::_j r-=->,-i

; ->'.«.?J •

^Itfe^jr

87.
2. B'haftojro. 1

Andantino. (Ad libitum.)

Langsam.iNit scktreng ritmisch)

jti ju j yj ^ P is JT^J^^rf^p

Mer - cho tip _ cho_ Mu . nach esnach

Mer . cho tip. cho Mer.

nach ko.tojn sokejf g o __dojel Mer.chotipchosojfposuk. _

3. B'jomim nojroim.

.d^rii: CCS

Moderate (Ad libitum)

Miiel-messigXNit schireng riimiscK.) _

rs

Mer ^ cho tip -cho . Mu .nachM-nach-to

M«

. cho

tip .

^r

Mer.

#i^^^j=^J^^4gpi

cho sojf po ."Yui; kad . mo ma - pach pasch - to Mu.nach ko

toih_ Mer - cho tip . cho_ esjiach to Dar . go

4.Mgilas Estejr. ' .1#P$ n^3p

Allegro.
Gich.iNit schtreng rilmisch^

Merchosojf po . suk._

5. Mgilas ejcho.

.n_^ r^.p

^^^■^^^^^ ^^ ^^^1

Mw.cho_sc.jfpo.,

91.

6. Schir haschirim,Rus,Kojlieles. .T\bT\p ,TTVl &yVQ TIP

Allegretto.

Nit sejergiek.i Nit sch treng ritmisch^i

*+&±m

Mer.cho tip.cho Mu.nach esnach.to, Mer.cho tip _cho Mer.chosojfpo.guk kad.

ojl __ g-er. scha im Mer.cho twir Merjcho tip.cho sojf po. suk.

92.

7. Akdomojs. I niOlpX

Andante.

Langsam. Q> 3 ^

Ak . doraus milin w'sehoroj.us schu.so; Aw.lo schokil . no har-monuuchusoZI

[ . do.mu9 milin wscho.rojus schu.