Cantors Assembly Journal of Synagogue Music

J O U R N A L

OF SYNAGOGUE

MUSIC

J une 1979 /TAMUZ 5739

Volume IX

Number 2

CONTENTS

The CANTUS FIRMUS of

Arnold Schoenberg's "Kol NIDRE"

The Musical Legacy of

Hazzan Gershon Ephros

Sam Weiss 3

Pinchas Spiro 10
Music and Prayer In Reform Worship Stephen Richards 20
Surviving Future Shock Samuel Rosenbaum 26

DE PARTM E NTS

Review of New MUSIC

Yo M'enamori D'un Aire, by Richard Neumann

Una Matica DeRuda, by Richard Neumann

Yismechu, by Simon Sargan

Chatsi Kaddish, by Samuel Adler

Mighty Hand, by Maurice Goldman

Lecha Dodi, by Maurice Goldman

Sonata for Piano, by Herbert Fromm

Set Me As A Seal, by Judith M. Berman

Ha- am Haholchim Bachoshech, by Lillian V. Klass

Letters From Our Readers

synagogue Music, Volume IX, Number 2

June 1979 / Tamuz 5739

editor: Morton Shames

editor: Samuel Rosenbaum

editorial board: Jacob Borkin, David Bran&handler, Joseph Gole,
Morton Kula, Abraham Lubin, Benjamin Z. Maissner, Saul Meisels,
Morton S. Shanok, Abraham Shapiro, Moses J. Silverman, Pinchas
Spiro, Max Wohlberg.

business manager: Yehudah Mandel

officers of the cantors assembly: Kurt Silbermann, President;
Morton Shames, Vice President; Abraham Shapiro, Treasurer; Bruce
Wetzler, Secretary; Samuel Rosenbaum, Executive Vice President.

journal of synagogue music is a quarterly publication. The sub-
scription fee is $12.50 per year. All articles, communications and
subscriptions should be addressed to Journal of Synagogue Music,
Cantors Assembly, 150 Fifth Avenue, New York 10011.

Copyright© 1979, Cantors Assembly

THE CAISTTUS HRMUS OF

ARNOLD SCHOENBERG'S "KOL NIDRE"

SAM WEISS

When one thinks of secular, or concert, versions of the Kol
Nidre melody, the work by Max Bruch comes immediately to mind.
Nevertheless, this work merely exploits the "sweetness" of the
melody, without ever getting involved in the further implications —
even on a musical level — of the chant. A much more meaningful
work of this genre, both compositionally and emotionally, is Arnold
Schoenberg's Kol Nidre, written in 1938 for narrator, chorus and
orchestra.

Although not popularly performed, the piece has been recorded
(Columbia #M2S 709), and close analysis of it reveals a richness of
thematic development which should not surprise us, coming, as it
does, from the pen of a master like Schoenberg. What may be sur-
prising, however, is the spiritual intensity (shall we call it "J ewish"?)
that is brought to bear on the material, and is evoked from the
listener.

Schoenberg wrote this piece during the period immediately
following his reconversion to J udaism, and he intended it as a testi-
monial to his conviction. The traditional significance of the Kol
Nidre prayer-text, that of renouncing forced conversions, is thus
revitalized by the composer and poignantly conveyed to the listener.

In trying to present the liturgical chant on which Arnold
Schoenberg based his musical elaboration, we are met with the fact
that there is no one chant that could have served as the model, for
we are not dealing with a "melody" in the conventional sense. In
the synagogue, the musical rendition of the Kol Nidre consists of
a series of beginning, central and concluding motives that are -con-
nected, expanded and embellished according to the ski 1 1 and tempera-
ment of the individual cantor. Further, even the basic motives are
subject to geographical variants, as well as to variations due to the
particular words or accentuation selected.

Example 1 lists variants of the basic opening and central motives
as well as a common concluding motive.

Sam Weiss studied hazzanut at the Cantorial Training I nstitute of Yeshiva
University. He is completing work towards an M.A. in applied music at the
University of Connecticut. Hazzan Weiss serves the Ner Tamid Greenspring
Valley Congregation of Baltimore, Maryland.

OPENING PHRASE9

m^^^^^m^^^^M

CENTRAL PHRASES

m^Mmm?:m

fHAsr)

(Srr.wiO

1^

-^H--

z=£-»-trz£z

"1

->V_|^

-l^^ff

= -£ - ^ ~~~ P .«2.H

Lo

. - re.

P

— ?^==*

=■*=«=

=«=-

I=r=

S^PS

\^=±=^r^-—— |

g£^g^^^P^^g^^i|ED

Example 1. AM JVidre chant.
Quoted from the J ewish Encyclopedia, N.Y. 1914, S.V. Kol Nidre.

In Example 2 we give one complete traditional rendition of Kol
Nidre, which illustrates the developmental treatment of the basic
motives.

/f ^ ^^ ^^ y firffFirr r? '?^

Example 2. Eastern Ashkenazi version of Kol Nidre.
From the Encyclopedia Judaica, Jerusalem, 1973, S.V. Kol Nidre.

For instance, the falling fifth in Example 2, line 1 foreshadows
the basic concluding motive as it will later appear on lines 5, 8, etc.
Line 3, on the other hand, reveals a sequential pattern. In cormpar-

ing this anonymous cantor's version of the Kol Nidre with Schoen-
berg's conception, we shall see that the latter was just as concerned
with transmitting the free, melismatic, "personal" character of the
synagogal chant, as he was with weaving a strict musical elaboration
of the motivic material.

9 f*f

fa-*)

Schoenberg's opening motive (Fig. A), identified as the Kol
Nidre 'theme" in the minds of most listeners familiar with the
chant, forms the basis for his prelude, comprising the first 26 meas-
ures of the work. In the initial three measures the motive is pre-
sented "statically" by the upper cellos, disguised as an inner har-
monic voice. This motive is identical to the "Polish" variant in
Example 1. The sustained Bb in the flutes gives way to a stylized
"cantonal" sextolet (m. 5) which, in turn, reintroduces the motive
in the flutes' lower register — audible amid the orchestral texture
only because it is flutter-tongued. I n measure 8 we find the inverted
motive in diminuition as a cello pedal (Fig. B), while the original
motive in augmentation is played by the winds in mm. 12-14.

Of course, in these and other instances the "theme" is not highlighted;
rather, it is woven into the rich orchestral fabric of countermelodies
in constantly shifting tonality. (Indeed, Schoenberg is seeking to
avoid the "cello-sentimentality of Bruch, etc. "I often associated with
the Kol Nidre melody. What he has succeeded to do, is to under-
line the cumulative "masculine" effect of the chant.) For example,
the wind augmentation just mentioned (mm. 12-14) is fragmented

1 " Eine meiner Hauptaufgaben war, die Cello-Sentimentalitat der

Bruch, etc., wegzuvitriolisieren und diesem Dekret die Wurde eines Gesetzes,
eines Erlasses, zu verleihen." (Arnold Schoenberg, AusgewahlteBriefe Mainz,
1958; letter of November 22, 1941 to Paul Dessau).

at measure 14, where it is continued by the solo cello into the next
measure, while the rest of the orchestra introduces a lyrical "second
theme" in the violins derived from the Kol Nidre motive. This is
accompanied by a trumpet figure consisting of the inverted Kol
Nidre in diminuition + the Kol Nidre motive — which figure the
tuba plays simultaneously in augmentation (mm. 15-18). At the
same time, the violas have a different Kol Nidre-derived phrase,
while the clarinet comments with its sextolet flourish.

The prelude is brought to an end with an inversion in extreme
diminuition of the theme's characteristic semitone interval (Fig. C),
while the theme in eighth-note motion is contracted by the violins
into Fig. D, and finally reiterated by pizzicato lower strings as in
Fig. E.

In the introductory passage for narrator (mm. 27-57) the Kol
Nidre motive is not as conspicuous, although this section's "leit-
motif" (Fig. F) is obviously a transformation of it* Moreover, this
section, which immediately precedes the adaptation of the Kol Nidre
text, ends with the characteristic descending semitone interval in
the upper winds (mm. 56-57).

Starting from m. 58 the narrator is involved in a dialogue with
the orchestra, which intones the basic Kol Nidre opening phrase as
it appears in Example 1, line 3 ("Ah!"), as well as various other
motives from the liturgical chant. (These motives will later be
developed in the final section of the work, mm. 94-186, marked by
the use of the chorus.) The quasi-dodecaphonic string accompani-
ment at the beginning of this section (mm. 58-62) derives its two
rhythmic components from the traditional motives that Schoenberg
will quote in measures 68 and 69, respectively (Figs. Gl and G2).

» m 7Z hi-

We term the last-mentioned motives "traditional" since they
may well appear in a traditional synagogal rendition of the Kol

1 Interestingly enough, line 5 of Example 2 contains a similar idea.

Nidre. Or, to use a different yardstick, to the liturgically trained
ear these motives will evoke the Kol Nidre chant even when pro-
duced out of context. If we examine these motives more closely,
they turn out to be variants of Example 1, line 2 C'Kol Nidre")
and Example 2, line 7 (quoted by Schoenberg in measures 70 and
86, respectively). Moreover, a motive such as the one in Fig. H,
appearing in mm. 137-141, finds its counterpart on line 9 of Example
2 ("ad" et al.); on the other hand, the "traditional" sextolet at the
beginning of Example 2 would pass for one of Schoenberg's own
transformations. All of which raises the question: Is Schoenberg
quoting traditional variants, or is he varying selected motives tradi-
tionally? The answer, of course, is irrelevant, and merely points to
the composer's skill in preserving an important facet of the chant
within the contemporary musical idiom.3

In measure 71 of the horn initiates a motive (Fig. I), quickly
imitated by the lower winds and strings, complete with an embel-
leshing cantorial melisma. With tongue somewhat in cheek, however,
Schoenberg has transposed this melisma down a minor second, while
retaining the rest of the phrase intact. This phrase, later given a
fugal development by the chorus in mm. 113 ff., is nothing more
than a simplified version of the run found in Example 2, line 2
("ah"). Besides being a more simplified version, it is also a tradi-
tionally more correct version, cadencing as it does on Bb rather than
on C.

The motive marked "Lewandowsky" in Example 1 is quoted
exactly by the cello in measure 74. Among the many other motives
that are quoted in this "exposition" section 4 we find a variation on
Example 2, line 10 ("shevikin") and a new version of the Kol Nidre
motive (Figs. J and K, respectively).

F/«-.g) (fO

F.«.0

3 Schoenberg also captures the cantorial flavor in several rhythmic figures,
such as the wind line in m. 18, or the miniaturized "vocal" run for the flute
in m. 43.

4 We have in this piece a formal dichotomy: On the one hand, there is
an introduction, followed by the narrator's exposition, and the chorus' develop-
ment. From the orchestral point of view, however, we have seen that the
more rigorous "development" of the k.n. motive in the prelude precedes the

The melody sung by the chorus (from m. 94) starts off with the
straightforward "German" opening phrase (Example 1) deriving

from its half-cadence the figure*

-on the word "un-

fathomable". I nserted, however, starting with the words '*wherewith
we pledged," is a line based on an expansion of a motive first intro-
duced in measure 64 (cf. also Example 2, line 13 "loh") Among
the interesting devices used in this section is the octave displacement
of the Kol Nidre motive (Fig. L) and a series of "open" fifths in
measures 131-134 that are at once a distillation of Fig. G2, as well
as quotation of the traditional final cadence (Example 1, and Ex-
ample 2 passim).

F.f.El

ftoi-V)

In conclusion, we have a Schoenberg's Op. 39 a thoroughly
modern treatment of a venerable cantus firmus that exhibits a unique
fidelity to the spirit of the chant and, to a great extent, to its letter
as well. Hand in hand with his interest in the integrity of the text
(the composer collaborated in the English adaptation of the Aramaic
prayer), Schoenberg brings forth all the implications of the melody.

THE MUSICAL LEGACY OF HAZZAN GERSHON EPHROS

PINCHAS Spiro

Hazzan Gershon Ephros passed on to his eternal reward on the
23rd day of Sivan, 5738, (June 28, 1978), at the age of 88. His
entire adult life was devoted to the enhancement of the music of
his people. It was an active, creative and prolific life in which he
enriched the treasure house of Jewish music immeasurably. His
death is mourned by his many friends and students, and by the
countless numbers of Jewish musicians whose work was affected
to a large degree by the many-facetted legacy of Gershon Ephros.
The passing of Gershon Ephros has left a great void in the field of
Hazzanut, and Jewish music in general, a void that will not easily be
filled.

Gershon Ephros devoted himself to several diverse areas in the
field of Jewish music, and in all of them he excelled and acquired
renown. To begin with, he was a practicing hazzan, beloved and
admired by his congregation, Beth Mordechai of Perth Amboy, N.J.,
where he served with distinction for thirty years, until his retirement,
in 1957, at the age of 67.

He was a gifted composer who wrote many original compositions,
both liturgical and secular, that won him critical acclaim from some
of the most distinguished music critics, including Olin Downs and
Howard Taubman of "The New York Times."

He was a music educator whose influence on the Jewish musi-
cians of his time was exceedingly great not only because of his crea-
tive ideas, interesting innovations and experimentations, but also
because of his soft-spoken and unassuming ways and because of his
pleasant and captivating personality.

Above and beyond all of his other great accomplishments
Gershon Ephros is known internationally as the compiler and editor
of the six- volume "Cantorial Anthology" which is a collection and
distillation of some of the finest liturgical compositions, the legacy
of the Jewish people from its early history to the present clay. It
is this monumental task, to which he devoted 60 years of his life,
which has earned Gershon Ephros an everlasting honored place
among the great Jewish musicians and musicologists of all time.

Pinchas Spiro is the hazzan of Tifereth Israel Synagogue of Des Moines,
Iowa. He is a frequent contributor to well known Jewish periodicals and writes
in Hebrew as well English.

11

To appreciate fully the herculean effort involved in the compila-
tion of the "Cantorial Anthology," one has to take into account the
many aspects that were involved in its preparation. Consider the
following:

(a) Examining the enormous amount of printed material (some
available for purchase, but much of it stored in the rare
book sections of public and private libraries) and selecting
from among it the best and most suitable examples;

(b) Investigating, hunting down and finding worthy manu-
scripts of unpublished music, editing and purifying them
from foreign influences;

(c) Searching out reputable old ba'aley t'fillah and learning
from them the ancient melodies which they had learned
from their parents and mentors as an oral tradition, then
sifting out that material and preserving the precious parts
of it for generations to come;

(d) Convincing the great living J ewish composers to contribute
original material for the Anthology;

(e) Arranging many of the ancient melodies for choir and/or
adding to them organ accompaniment;

(f) Composing original compositions for every one of the six
volumes of the Anthology.

The most difficult problem involved in the preparation of
an Anthology of that magnitude is that of selecting one from among
many, and the need to make constant judgements. It is obvious that
some of the decisions were influenced by the personal tasteof Gershon
Ephros. But, for the most part, the decisions were based on accepted
musical standards and on a deep understanding of the special char-
acter of the Hebrew melos and its historical development. While
some hazzanim and choir directors may question the inclusion of
several pieces and the exclusion of several others, the consensus is
that the Anthology as a whole stands as a towering beacon and
guiding light for future generations of J ewish musicians.

In 1972, the N.B.C. radio network dedicated one of its "Eternal
Light" programs to Gershon Ephros in honor of the completion of
60 years work on the Cantorial Anthology. The prgram consisted
of a dramatization of several interesting and charming episodes in
Gershon Ephros' early childhood and adolesence. At the conclusion

12

of the program, Hazzan Max Wohlberg summarized the life and
achievements of the honoree as follows: "Three crucial periods af-
fected the evolution of Jewish music in recent times. The first of
these took place in Eastern Europe where our people created an
astonishingly rich repertoire of Jewish music. The second significant
event was the confrontation in Israel of long separated Jewish com-
munities of East and West. After centuries of isolation, Sephardim
and Ashkenazim were exposed to each other's customs and melodies.
The third momentous era took place in the United States where,
living in liberty and worshipping in freedom, the Jewish composer
was, for the first time, faced with the novel challenges of the modern
world. It was Gershon Ephros" good fortune to be exposed to the
effects of these three historic periods and to be an active participant
in their evolution."

Gershon the son of Abraham Abba Ephros was born in 1890 in
Serotzk, a suburb of Warsaw. His father, a Hebrew teacher and a
competent ha'al k'ri'ah, died at the age of 40 when Gershon was only
ten years old. Some time afterwards, his mother married her cousin,
Cantor Moshe Fromberg, who had also lost his mate about the same
time. The relations between Gershon and his step-father were un-
usually warm and affectionate. Cantor Fromberg discovered in young
Gershon a rare musical talent and a beautiful voice. He took him
into his choir and taught him the rudiments of musical theory and
sight-singing. On many occasions in his later life, Gershon Ephros
would tell about the tremendous influence that his step-father had
on his musical development and on his entire future. Ephros in-
cluded his arrangements of Cantor Fromberg's compositions in sev-
eral volumes of his Cantorial Anthology. Two such compositions,
("Ovos for the High Holy Days and "Lo Omus" from Hallel),
which were included in the recording in honor of Gershon Ephros'
70th birthday, are excellent examples that testify eloquently to
Cantor Fromberg's remarkable musicianship.

In the year 1909, at the age of 19, Gershon Ephros emigrated
to Palestine as a pioneer. It was there that he came under the
influence of Abraham Z. Idelsohn, one of the greatest modern Jewish
musicologists, who was a cantor in Jerusalem and established there
a Jewish Music Institute ("Machon L'shirat Yisrael") Idelsohn
recognized the native musical talents of young Ephros. He appointed
him as Assistant-Cantor and conductor of his choir. Idelsohn taught
him musical theory and harmony, and cultivated in him a passion
for researching the ancient roots of Jewish music. Idelsohn and his

13

devoted young disciple traveled all across the country with a primi-
tive recording-machine, recording and transcribing the secular and
sacred chants of many of the oriental Jewish communities that had
settled in Palestine. His work with Idelsohn constituted the second
important stage in the musical development of Gershon Ephros. It
seems to be the decisive stage that determined his musical person-
ality and to a great extent influenced the nature of his creative
musical activity for the rest of his blessed life.

In 1911, Gershon Ephros emigrated to the United States, 'and
a short time later married Rose Hurvitz whom he had met while
still in Jerusalem. In New York, Ephros became the first Music
Director of the Bureau of Jewish Education, organized and directed
by the legendary educator, Dr. Simon Benderly. In 1918, Ephros
was appointed cantor in Norfolk, Va. and later at Temple Beth
Elohim in the Bronx. During that time, Ephros continued to be
occupied with the musical research which he had started in Jerusalem
with his mentor, Professor A. Z. Idelsohn. This was also the period
in which he started his collection of selected compositions by the
finest Jewish composers. In addition to that, he began to assemble
and to purify the traditional chants based on the prayer modes, to
harmonize them and to add organ accompaniments. Ephros labored
on this unique collection for over 10 years, but without practical
results. Only in 1927, when he was appointed cantor of the celebrated
synagogue Beth Mordecai of Perth Amboy, N.J., did his dreams
and hopes for Jewish music start to materialize and take a practical
turn. In 1929, two years after assuming his position with Beth
Mordecai, Gershon Ephros published, with the help of generous
congregants, the first volume of his Cantorial Anthology, a volume
of selected compositions for Rosh Hashanah. (This is perhaps as
good a place as any to note that the title "CANTORIAL ANTHOL-
OGY" is actually a misnomer, since the majority of the compositions
in the Anthology are for choir.) The introduction to the trail-blazing
first vlume was written by Professor Abraham Z. Idelsohn. The
following is a partial quote:

"It gives me great pleasure to write these lines in commenda-
tion of my pupil. Would that that there were many cantors of his
calibre in Israel. In both his selection and arrangement he shows
a profound insight into the traditional Hebrew liturgy. Like precious
gems, these sacred songs were picked from the treasure-house of
Jewish melody and arranged in the form of a complete service in
the genuine spirit of Hebrew music. This Anthology will consid-
erably facilitate the work of cantors and choir leaders, both here

14

and abroad. Many of them do not have at their disposal the musical
material from which to make a judicious selection and are thus
hampered in arranging an effective service. Cantor Ephros' compila-
tion will, no doubt, help them to create an atmosphere of reverence
and solemnity, because he is fully qualified for his self-imposed task
by virtue of his musical training and his impeccable taste."

Compared to the Cantorial Anthology volumes that followed it,
the first volume now seems rather modest in its contents and in its
goals. In his Preface to Voluve I, Cantor Ephros states simply:
"My objective is to introduce into the modern synagogue the finest
of cantorial and choral music, and I am referring to music that is
rooted in our sacred tradition, and at the same time also has a true
artistic form and an oriental charm. I have sought to find a synthesis
between the ancient Hebrew melos and the modern harmonic
tendencies."

Volume I represents only the initial phase of Gershon Ephros'
emergence as a Jewish composer and musicologist. Most of the
material in Volume I consists of compositions written by well-known
19th century J ewish composers, and even the few compositions by
20th century composers that were included had been written in the
19th century musical style. What is even more significant is that
Gershon Ephros' own harmonic language (for both his original com-
positions as well as for his arrangements of the ancient modal chants)
is basically that of a Western musician,

The second volume of the Cantorial Anthology ("Yom Kip-
pur"), was published in 1940, eleven years after the publication of
Volume I. The second volume reflects a giant step in the musical
development of Gershon Ephros and in the formulation of his musical
credo and his plans for the future. During this period he came under
the influence of the great J ewish composer J oseph Achron who be-
came his guide, his inspiration and his motivating force. His studies
with J oseph Achron and his close relationship with him have brought
to full bloom Ephros' creative musical abilities. In retrospect, it is
easy to see how the musical personality of Gershon Ephros has been
nurtured, shaped and formed by his three great teachers:

(a) Cantor Moshe Fromberg, his step-father, who raised him
since early childhood on the purity of the ancient J ewish
musical tradition, and from whom he learned that "the
great Jewish liturgical composers from generations past
achieved great heights and inspired ideas only when they
were true and faithful to their Hebraic 'self and did not
compromise it."

15

(b) Abraham Z. Idelsohn, the pioneer musicologist who taught
him that the ancient Hebrew chants of the 11th and 12th
centuries are rooted in the scriptural cantillations which,
in turn, are the basis of our earliest musical heritage.

(c) Joseph Achron, the celebrated composer who helped him
to find a way to harmonize the ancient Hebrew' chants with-
out destroying their original character. To do so, it was
necessary to discard the conventional Western harmonic
concepts and rigid rules and to base his music on quartal
(as opposed to triadic), harmonies. It seems that this dis-
covery released composer Ephros from his frustrations and
pointed him on the road to the future. Ephros exultantly
stated: "I stand now firmly based on the solid ground of
a Hebrew tradition which is free from foreign influence."

While the preparation of Volume I (Rosh Hashanah) lasted 12
years, and that of Volume II, (Yom Kippur), lasted 11 years, the
work on Volume III, (Three Festivals), lasted 8 years, the work on
Volume IV, (Shabbat), lasted 5 years, and the work on Volume V,
(Weekdays and Special Occasions), lasted only 4 years. The main
innovation of volumes III, IV and V was the inclusion of a consider-
able number of compositions by contemporary Jewish composers.
Gershon Ephros was so persuasive that almost all the great Jewish
composers graciously granted his request for their music. Some, like
Ernest Bloch and Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco, wrote music spe-
cifically for the Cantorial Anthology.

The appearance of the fifth volume in 1957, was supposed to
complete the Cantorial Anthology in accordance with the master
plan which Ephros laid out in his introduction to the first volume.
It was, therefore, a surprise when a sixth volume appeared in 1969,
devoted in its entirety to unaccompanied recitatives for Rosh Hash-
anah. It was probably the beginning of a new project — companion
volumes of hazzanic recitatives to each of the original five volumes.
In his Preface to Volume VI, Gershon Ephros reiterates his long-
held views that the prayer modes, "in their refreshing simplicity,
are based on the Biblical cantillations, and that the artistic, free-
flowing, modulating, improvisational Recitative, (which is nurtured
and inspired by the Nusah Hat'fillah), represents the most original
contribution that the cantors throughout the ages have made to the
Jewish music treasure-house, ancient and revitalized."

Despite the fact that Hazzan Gershon Ephros lived to 88, he
was a sickly man most of his life and suffered from many physical

16

ailments. At the age of 53, he underwent major surgery for cancer
which left him with life-long debilitating effects. He underwent
a similar operation at the age of 70. What is amazing is that his
illnesses and his physical pain and discomfort did not slow down
the pace of his work. In fact, his musical creativity seemed to in-
crease. It seems that he found in his work a purpose to his life and
a balm to his suffering. When he was 67, Ephros retired from his
position as cantor of Congregation Beth Mordecai. This marked the
beginning of the most creative period in his life, a period devoted
Co his own original musical compositions. Among the works which
he created during this period are the acclaimed sets of worship ser-
vices: "Selichot," "Lei Shabbat," "L'Yom Hashabbat" and "Hallel
V'zimrah."

I was privileged to have enjoyed a most cordial and warm
friendship with Hazzan Gershon Ephros, a friendship that started
almost on the very first day we met, some 25 years ago, at one of
the Cantors Assembly annual conventions. We happened to be
sitting next to one another at the same dinning-room table at Gros-
singer's, and I can still remember clearly the contents of our first
conversation. He wanted to know where 1 had received my basic
hazzanic training, and when I told him that it was at the "Shirat
Yisrael" Hazzanic Institute under tutelage of Reb Zalman Rivlin,
he became very excited. He related to me how he and Cantor Zal-
man Rivlin had been Professor Idelsohn's proteges when he estab-
lished the "Shirat Yisrael" Hazzanic Institute. Cantor Ephros and
I spent that whole afternoon together. We discussed the merits
and the practical difficulties of Cantor Rivlin's dream of creating
a new genre of congregational chant — one that would be a synthesis
of the style of the Sephardic-oriental communities, (especially the
Yemenite), with that of the Ashkenazic-East European communities.
Since then, we corresponded often, (always in Hebrew; and what
a delightful Hebrew style he had!), concerning various matters in
the area of J ewish music and especially hazzanut. Whenever I pub-
lished an article, I was sure to receive a letter from him with con-
structive comments and encouragement. Although I had never at-
tended any of Gershon Ephros' classes as his student, nevertheless
I always addressed him in my letter by the title, "Mori V'Rabi,"
because I truly regarded him as my teacher from whom I learned
so much directly and indirectly. From my conversations with col-
leagues in the cantorate, I have come to the conclusion that there
are many practicing hazzanim, young and old, who feel the same
way towards the late Cantor Gershon Ephros.

17

When Gershon Ephros celebrated his 70th birthday, I wrote
an article about him in the Cantors Assembly's old publication,
"The Cantor's Voice." The following is an excerpt, from that article:
"There is one point of total agreement among Orthodox, Conserva-
tive and Reform hazzanim, and it is the admiration that we all
have for this great scholar and musician, and out feeling of indebted-
ness to him for all he has clone for hazzanut. While some haz-
zanim, depending on their background and training, may have cer-
tain reservations concerning some aspects of his musical innova-
tion (Hazzan Ephros himself made revisions in his theories from
volume to volume), we are all so overwhelmed by his scholarship
and talent, and we have so much respect for this great and yet so
humble and lovable personality that we do not allow ourselves to
pass judgment, and we are ever eager to be shown and to be con-
vinced."

In the summer of 1968 I received a letter from Cantor Ephros
in which he shared with me the joyous news that he was about to
publish an additional, sixth, volume to his Cantorial Anthology.
The letter contained an unexpected request; he asked me to com-
pose for that volume an "Avinu Malkenu" melody for cantor and
congregation. I replied that, I did not regard myself as a bona fide
composer since all of my past, work had been for children's choirs
and youth congregations. He replied: "I hasten to write and to
encourage you. It is precisely the fact that your main creative
efforts have been in the educational field that qualifies you to com-
pose something worthwhile for cantor and congregation. Do so
with utter simplicity and don't resort to so-called tricks. Write
something in an oriental style or in a hazzanic style, and perhaps
in a mixture of the two." I am sorry now that I did not fulfill his
request. The mere fact that I was asked by the great Gershon
Ephros to contribute to his Anthology will always be taken for me
a supreme honor.

The outstanding quality that most typifies Gershon Ephros'
sojourn on earth was his studiousness and his firm belief that a per-
son must continue to develop and to grow as long as the breath of
life is in him. This was Gershon Ephros' way of life from his early
childhood to the very day of his death. He was the typical "Eternal
Student' who believed that "Who is wise? He who learns from every
person." This last quality goes well with the quality of sincere
modesty which characterized this pleasant and lovable man. When-
ever he concluded a new composition, he would send it to some of

his colleagues and former students, requesting them to look through
the material and to give him their reactions and comments.

I was privileged to be one of these whom Ephros consulted
regarding his latest original work. "Shiron Chadash," a new songster
intended for use by Hebrew Day Schools. He sent me the material
in rough manuscript form and asked for my constructive comments,
which I gladly gave. The new songster, which will soon be pub-
lished, consists of two volumes and contains 130 original melodies.
The tests — all in Hebrew — are by contemporary Israeli and Amer-
ican poets. The first volume consists of sacred songs for all the
holidays of the year. The second volume, entitled: "The Child's
World," consists of secular songs. Most of the songs are arranged
for two-part singing, unaccompanied, and are based on the Hebrew
melos in its purest form — indeed a work of art,! The children who
will he fortunate enough to learn from the new songster will derive
much enjoyment from the delightful melodies. Along with pleasure
of singing, they will acquire a basic acquaintance with most of the
ancient prayer modes, the "missinai" melodies, the Biblical can-
tillations and the special melodies that lend each Jewish holiday its
very own flavor.

A few months before his death, Cantor Ephros wrote me: "I am
delighted to tell you that Volume I of my new songster is now being
printed in Israel. I hope that the book will he ready for the schools
both here and in Israel for the new season My children and
I have spared no effort to make sure that this book which is dedi-
cated to the blessed memory of my life's companion will be printed
in the finest possible manner." It is worth noting that the last
creation by Gershon Ephros, a work for children, was dedicated to
the memory of his beloved late wife, Rose, who passed away in
1975. By coincidence, his first important published work, "A Chil-
dren's Suite" (a group of 16 delightful short gems for voice and
piano, written to the children's poems by Chayim Nachman Bia-
lik), had also been dedicated to his devoted wife, his "life's com-
panion."

Gershon Ephros was among the few creative artists who were
fully recognized and appreciated during their life-time for their
genius and for their works. It is no exaggeration to state that there
are few active hazzanim and Jewish choral conductors today who
have not been influenced to some extent by the monumental work
of Gershon Ephros. In addition to the large treasure of published

19

compositions, Gershon Ephros has left behind a legacy of many
original compositions in manuscript form that still await publica-
tion. J ust as he left his influence on many generations during his
life-time, so will the influence of Gershon Ephros continue for many
generations to come, and his memory will serve them as a blessing.

20

MUSIC AND PRAYER IN REFORM WORSHIP

A friend of mine, who is a musician, used to ask me why great
music is not heard in the synagogues of America. "After all," he
would point out, the same people who attend the synagogue services
are those who support the symphony orchestras, go to chamber music
concerts, attend and support the opera, spend a fortune on procuring
the best music teachers for their children, and own and use the most
expensive and sophisticated high-fidelity equipment yet devised.
They know what is good and what is great; yet when they come to
the synagogue, either regularly or on special occasions, they neither
demand nor expect great music, or even very good music. They
don't support it, or attach much importance to it, and even dis-
courage attempts to bring it into the worship service."

My friend, the musician had succeeded in embarrassing me by
his questions and comments, especially since I am a musician whose
career is in the field of synagogue music, and I know that he is right
in his observations. And then, if he really wanted to hurt me, he
would cite the enormous body of great music that has poured out
of the churches, and the names of hundreds of great composers who
wrote regularly for the Catholic and Protestant liturgies, and how
all this music really became the basis for the music of the secular
world from the Rennaissance through the Classical periods.

My initial responses were from an historical viewpoint. The
reason for the avoidance of instrumental music in the synagogue for
centuries, as being related to the mourning for the destruction of
the Temple and our living in "galut", is, according to musicologists
today, probably not accurate. More likely is the conclusion that the
Temple was hierarchic, and used art music that was prepared and
performed by an elite group, while the emerging synagogues at the
time were democratic, and used stylized folk music. With the destruc-
tion and dispersion, there was no longer a need for the use of
instruments or art music, and the skills of constructing the instru-
ments and the techniques of playing them became lost and forgotten.
The "mourning for the Temple" became a convenient rationale for
the lost art. Thus, centuries passed with few attempts at art music
in the synagogue.

Stephen Richards is a graduate of the School for Sacred Music. He has
served a number of reform congregations as Cantor. He currently is the Editor
of Transcontinental hlusic Publications.

21

With the birth of the Reform movement, and the introduction
of the organ into the synagogue, there were no traditions of instru-
mental music to draw upon, so the music and musicians of the
churches became our source. It is only in the last century or so
that, a significant body of music has been composed for our syna-
gogues, and used there, and most of that has not been written or
performed by the best Jewish musicians. Today, our synagogues and
other Jewish institutions give little or no encouragement to Jewish
musicians to involve themselves with the music of the synagogue;
either to create it or to achieve high level performances of it.

"All right," my musician friend comments, "you got a late start.
But, what is stopping you now'? Jewish communities that give mil-
lions to U.J.A., that build and support, multi-million dollar buildings,
are neither willing nor able to support and commission great music
for our synagogues."

This is the heart of the matter, and really requires an examina-
tion of what we want, our music to be in the worship service; what
is its function, and what, do people expect of it,

The first, assumption is that music in the synagogue is primarily
a function of prayer. It is there because of the prayers, and without
these prayers, would exist, somewhere else — perhaps in the concert
hall or on a recording. And, Jewish prayer has very special functions.

Jewish prayer is both an inward and an outward reaching. One
interpretation of the Hebrew word for prayer, "tefila," is that it is
derived from the root-word, "palol," which is a legal term meaning
to judge, or plead a case. The word, "tefila" is a noun based upon
the reflexive case of that verb — "hitpallel" — to judge, or to plea
to oneself. Whether or not this is accurate etymological I y, it is an
indication that prayer is a very personal, individual experience,
reaching inwards to effect, a person's deepest feelings. But prayer is
also, as Dr. Henry Slonimsky expressed it, "the expressions of our
needs and aspirations, addressed to a great Source of help — a
' Shomei-tefila' — One who listens to prayer; for such things as health
or food, or even life itself or on another level, for forgiveness
of sin or wrongdoing, and that all the great and good causes of the
human heart, shall come about — the poor and oppressed shall be
comforted; wrongs righted; justice done and goodness prevail.'"

Expressed in still another way, the inward and outward reaching

1 From Henry Slonimsky, "Essays" (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College
Press. 1967) as reprinted in "Gates of Understanding edited by Lawrence A.
Hoffman (New York: Central Conference of American Rabbis. 1977) p. 72.

22

of prayer is the desire, even the need, to enter a spiritual experience;
to elevate oneself — to surmount the ordinary, the secular — to strive
towards holiness. So, in order to pray, the J ew enters the sanctuary,
the "mikdash" or holy place, and then what? Wait for something
to happen? Expect someone else to do the praying? How can each
person effect the transformation towards holiness or transcendance?
How can we prepare ourselves for that inward reaching; the self-
examination, and the expressions of our needs and aspirations to the
Shomei-a tefila? It requires something from each person who enters
into a place of worship, but it also requires something of the nature
of the service itself — the liturgy, as well as the music.

The prayer of the J ew is directly linked to our covenant with
God. While there are many purposes to prayer, one of the main
thrusts it to inspire action — to join in partnership with God to
repair and perfect the world around us. This is summed up in every
worship service by the second paragraph of the Aleinu: "We pray
with all our hearts: let violence be gone; let the day come soon
when evil shall give way to goodness, when war shall be forgotten,
hunger be no more, and all shall at last live in freedom. Source of
life: may we, created in Your image, embrace one another in friend-
ship and in joy. Then shall we be one family, and then shall Your
kingdom be established on earth, and the word of Your prophet
fulfilled: The Lord will reign for ever and ever.' "2

The "kingdom of God on earth" is the ultimate aim of J ewish
prayer. This is not a private matter between one person and God,
as Dr. Eugene Borowitz has pointed out, "but something that must
be accomplished, not only with the Jewish people, but with all
peoples." 3 We are required, through the mitsvot and the prayer
services, to train ourselves to be an example to others — an "or
lagovim" - a light unto the nations. The individual Jew cannot
understand himself and his purpose outside of the context of all
humankind, and all history. To paraphrase the translation of Hillel's
famous statement: If I don't pray for myself, who will pray for
me; if I pray for myself alone, what am I, and if I don't pray now,
when shall I?

2 As freely translated in "Gates of Prayer," edited hy Chaim Stern (New
York: C.C.A.R., 1975) p. 618.

3 Eugene B. Borowitz. "The Individual and Community in Jewish Prayer,"
from "Rediscovering Judaism," edited by Arnold Jacob Wolf (Chicago: Quad-
rangle Books, 1965) as reprinted in "Gates of Understanding (see above),

23

Prayer can lead us to a realization of the nature and purpose
of our being; it can help us join into partnership with God in the
quest for a more perfect world. It must start with the self, and
then reach out to others. It is an active, participating experience
If a congregant comes into a service expecting to get something out
of it without putting something into it, or the music of the service
ignores the worshipper's need to participate actively in the prayer,
or the goal of the cantor or music director is only to make beautiful
music, or to interest or challenge the performers, without involving
the "pray-or". then the effectiveness of the prayers will be diminished.
There are even worse situations where the music in some synagogues
still imitates the sounds of the church or the opera house, and totally
ignores the concepts and goals of Jewish prayer.

Dr. Eric Werner recently stated that "art music sets itself higher
aims, and uses different means than folk music. The music of the
synagogue however, is not art music, but by definition functional
music, based on elements of st ylized folksong." 4

Many congregations have tried to stimulate active participation
in worship by converting the sanctuary into a camp, where the song-
leaders have been so successful involving our young people in singing
together. Everyone stomps and claps, in an effort to shed the years,
and recapture the odour of the pine trees. The hazzan is replaced
by a song-leader, or attempts to imitate one. or the rabbi tries to
set an example for the congregation by singing loudly: the organ
gives way to a guitar, or. even worse tries to mimic the guitar or
accordion style accompaniments which is totally unfitting for the
instrument.

There are other, better ways to inspire people to participate in
the service. There are combinations of sounds most organ.; are capa-
ble of. that neither overwhelm nor sound like a commercial, yet can
sensitively and rhythmically provide a background for people to
sing to. The formal designs of most of the sanctuaries of Reform
Temples don't lend themselves easily to the camp atmosphere, and
for good reason. The attempt to make the conversion usually results
in a secularization of the service and this works against the striving
for holiness. "Da lifneimiatah omeid" is written over the ark in many
of our Temples — "Know before Whom you stand." The service is
not for our enjoyment it is to serve God's purposes. When we use
music in the synagogue that was written for the cabaret or the
campfire, the ambiance is secular. It may provide a pleasant socialogi-

24

cal experience, or even a nice sensual feeling, hut is the worshipper
participating in a religious experience? Is it an experience directly
related to the prayer, and a striving towards holiness? Participation
may not he the ultimate goal, even though prayer cannot exist well
without it.

Historically, sacred and secular music have always horrowed
from one another and influenced each other, hoth in Judaism and in
Christianity. But, when secular tunes found their way into church
music, as they did in the cantatas of Bach, for example, they were
infused with an attitude of the holy — a seriousness; an acute aware-
ness of and respect for the prayers, and their position in the overall
structure of the worship.

This happened in Jewish music as well. The songs of Provencal
and Spain wove their way into the Sephardic tradition; German
folksongs were introduced into our "Misinai tunes" — tunes sup-
posed to have heen handed down from Sinai! But these secular tunes
have heen adapted and transformed to give the worshipper a re-
ligious experience; to be sung with or listened to in a participating
way that, strives to be holy. Sometimes great technical skills and
sensitivity to the prayers were necessary to achieve this transfor-
mation.

Today, many Reform synagogues have a choir made up of
congregants. Here is one approach to the; problem of inspiring par-
ticipation in an artistic way. The; members of the choir are par-
ticipating fully and regularly in the worship experience, often with
fervor and sensitivity and understanding. They strive to render the
music of the service in as beautiful way as is possible, and yet it is
not removed from the congregation. It is the essence of the worship-
per actively praying; it maintains the connection between the insti-
tution and its members, and can become an attracton to the syna-
gogue for new members, old ones who have strayed away, and
converts to Judaism. Music has the power to bring people together
in a common bond and purpose, and the volunteer choirs in our
synagogues bring people together in a most holy common purpose.
These are amateurs in the best sense of that word — those who do
something because they love it. These are Jews who fulfill the mits-
vah of prayer in the best way, because they bring so much of them-
selves into the act.

Instrumental music, other than the organ, is becoming more and
more prevalent in Reform synagogues. Again, here is a way someone
can actively combine praying and striving for beauty. But, not each
of us can sing well, or play an instrument, or even feel comfortable

25

singing. Is that person automatically excluded from prayer? Even
though I am a musician, I have never enjoyed participating in com-
munity singing, and I'm sure many others share my reluctance.
Perhaps it is not necessary to sing a prayer, or even say it aloud in
order to participate in it. Perhaps one can pray by listening intently
to a beautiful rendering of a cantor or reader or choir. People par-
ticipate in the "Kol Nidrei" prayer without singing along. People
actively are involved in a funeral or wedding without feeling the
need to join in the Sheva Brachot or the El Male prayers.

Music should be an important part of synagogue life, and ac-
tively involve people of all ages — sometimes singing, sometimes lis-
tening; sometimes contributing time or money, sometimes complain-
ing or praising, but involved, and the sanctuary doesn't have to be
converted into a camp, or even a Mitch Miller singalong. Maybe the
music of the synagogue, because of our theology, will never aspire
towards the greatness of a Bach cantata or a Mozart Mass. If it does,
it will only happen on a special event. Synagogues will always keep
music subservient to the texts and spirit of J ewish prayer. In order
for the music of the synagogue to be effective, this must be so, and the
music must involve as many people as possible in the congregation.

It must be steeped in the liturgical and musical traditions of
our people, yet infused with all the technique and art we can muster,
still seeking primarily to involve the worshipper and capture the
moods and spirit of the prayers.

As the years have passed, the questions of my friend the musician
have changed. He no longer asks the original question about great
music in the synagogue, but the quest now is for the proper balances
and relationships between prayer and music; between art music and
stylized folk music in our worship; between active, vocal participa-
tion on the part of the congregant, and active, participatory listening.

My friend, the musician, was myself many years ago, and the
questions he raised were the questions that sent me into the field
of synagogue music. I hope that these questions will continue to be
asked by young J ewish musicians, and that they probe as I am still
doing for the answers.

Special thanks to Dr. Eric Werner and Dr. Lawrence Hoffman, both of
Hebrew Union College Jewish Institute of Religion, for their advice in the
preparation of this article for publication.

SURVIVING FUTURE SHOCK

Samuel Rosenbaum

I would like to talk with you tonight about, the essence of our
calling. About the core, the center, the focus, the heart from which
all other duties, privileges and responsibilities flow. I want to talk
about the sh'lihut which we call hazzanut.

I think that any hazzan, of whatever sect of Judaism, who does
not see himself as the bearer of a sacred mandate to lead his congre-
gation to prayer and in prayer may have serious questions to con-
front about his life and his calling.

Hazzanut is a sanctity of Jewish life. It is intimately and
eternally bound up with the mystical, mysterious process which we
call prayer. It is both the message and the medium of the mirror
to which we hold up our souls. It is the sacred crystal through which
we can see the world as we want it to be. It is the window through
which we can call out in pain or in joy to our Creator. It is the light
by which we may, in a rare moment of incandescence, catch a glimpse
of Him who is the Hearer of prayer.

And like the condition of all things, the condition of the state
of prayer is changing. Historians like to be ahle to pinpoint the
exact moment when great, events first began to take shape. They
tell us that the year 489 marks the beginning of the downfall of the
Roman Empire, or that 1742 marks the beginning of the Industrial
Revolution.

That may be, but it is quite probable that people living in those
times may not have been aware that they stood at a crossroad.
For them, life did not seem to be undergoing any radical change.
It is only in retrospect that we can point our finger to one particular
date on the calendar and say, "That day is when this or that era
in human history came to an end and a new era was begun.

So it is with us. We are not aware that we are at a crossroad;
perhaps we have already passed that point. But if we are at all
sensitive to developments in our profession we must be aware that
changes continue to take place, that in our time, these changes have
begun to proceed at an ever-increasing rate.

Samuel Rosenbaum is the hazzan of Temple Beth El. Rochester New
York. Executive Vice President of Cantors Assembly and Managing Editor
of the "Journal of Synagogue Music." "Surviving Future Shock" is a talk
delivered at the 32nd Annual Meeting of the Cantors Assembly on M ay 8,
1979 and is reprinted here at the request of that hotly. The tal ks by H azzan
David Tilman and Hazzan Charles Davidson, both of Philadelphia given in
response, will appear in the Proceedings of the 32nd Annual Convention to be
published early next year.

27

It would seem appropriate, therefore, to talk about hazzanut,
about prayer, about a life devoted to sanctity, and about how we
feel about these things, here in the last quarter of the 20th century.

Those of you who saw the recently honored war film, "Coming
Home" will remember a very telling scene of which I would like to
remind you.

A brave Marine captain leaves for Viet Nam as for a glorious
adventure, firmly convinced that our country is in the right, pre-
pared to make every sacrifice to bring the war to a successful con-
clusion. After a few months in the thick of the battle, he gets a few
days away from the fighting and his wife joins him for his R & R in
Shanghai. She finds him changed, disturbed and uneasy. He has
gnawing doubts about the rectitude of America's position. He is
filled with revulsion at how brutalized he and his men have become.
He is certain that she can never understand, just as he had not
really understood until he was in the midst of it. She tries to tell
him that the war was being reported nightly on TV and that she
knew what it was like.

"No," he tells her, 'TV shows you what it is. You will never
know what it's like."

Like the unhappy Marine captain, we may know what the
situation is, but we need to talk about what it's like. How we feel
about what is happening, how fulfilling and how meaningful is our
calling for us, for our families and for the families whom it is our
responsibility to serve.

While my position may expose me to more data on this subject
than the average hazzan, I did not want to jump to any conclusions
based on my own experience in Rochester, overlayed with a heavy
dose of the troubles of colleagues who call with all too great fre-
quency to share their problems and to talk them out with me.

And so, on J anuary 19, I wrote to each member of the Assembly
asking that he: "write a one-page report on what has happened to
the liturgy and the music of the Friday evening and Sabbath morn-
ing services. What omissions, if any, are made? What replaces the
omitted prayers? What is the effect of popular Israeli-hasidic folk
material on the music of the service? Who participates in the service:
Hazzan, rabbi, bar/bat mitzvah, junior cantors, children's choirs,
professional chorus, etc."

"In short," I concluded, "we would like to know, as clearly
as possible, the nature of the services as they exist today in the
Conservative Synagogue."

28

As you can see, I did not prepare the usual "Check the box"
survey, requiring only a "yes" or a "no." That may be alright in
determining which brand of peanut butter you prefer. But our con-
cerns are matters requiring careful judgment, which often cannot
be reported in one-word answers.

A yes-no survey, or one requiring short answers to very specif-
ically framed questions creates an atmosphere of what the lawyers
like to call "prior restraint." That is, before you can ever answer
the question, your area of response has been circumscribed. Ques-
tions like: "Do you have a Friday night service; Yes or No? Do
you repeat the Shaharit Amidah; Yes or No?" do not give you any
room for explanation and in our case would have given us very little
useful information.

I am taking the time to explain all this because I want you to
understand how to evaluate the answers, or at least how I evaluated
them.

We have a membership of some 380. Well over 120 are retired,
some 20 are in the last year or two of their careers and are even
slower than the average to respond. Imagine my surprise, and de-
light, when I received 108 responses. Roughly one-half of the men
most involved in hazzanut, with a great preponderance of younger
members.

And the responses!

It was as though I had touched some secret sensitive point in
the minds of our men, and the answers poured forth in a flood. Not
only in numbers, but in content. Very few were satisfied with a one
page answer; most wrote at least three pages; one fine letter ran to
seven pages.

Almost without fail every respondent expressed gratitude for
the opportunity to share what he was doing, what he was suffering
or what he was enjoying. We do not realize how starved we are for
the opportunity to talk shop, to compare notes, to tell someone who
will listen how it is with us, what it is like with us, and how we long
to hear from others how it is with them.

If we learn nothing else, we must learn this: Somehow, we must
make such opportunities available in greater number. I know most
of us meet on some regular basis with regional colleagues. But I
have the feeling that, those meetings are, necessarily, organizationally
oriented and structured. What is needed are additional settings for
informal small group discussions. Such get-to-gethers may result in
something worthy of being passed on to regional and national atten-
tion. Whether the discussions are fruitful or not, they will provide

29

something equally important: a low-key opportunity for a man to
tell a friend what is in his heart. It is in such quiet moments, when
the ego is put aside and the need to maintain the professional mask
of imperturbability comes off, that the real truths in our lives can
emerge.

The older I get the more I understand the nature and meaning
of Elijah's discovery of God; not in the wind, nor in an earthquake,
nor in the fire, but in a still small voice.

We have been taught that, Elijah will appear to announce the
coming of the Messiah. But the Midrash adds an interesting note:

Elijah will not come to the world, our sages say, all at once,
with a great trumpeting noise. The doors of the world will not be
flung open to welcome him.

Elijah will come to a hidden city which no other city knows.
He will speak, not before gathered throngs, but to one person at a
time and he will not know that any other person has been spoken to.

When Elijah has convinced those to whom he has spoken, then
the Messiah may come.

If we take upon ourselves Elijah's assignment, even if he doesn't
appear, perhaps the Messiah will come.

Now to the results.

From what I have already said, you must understand that I
have no hard figures to give you. So many do this, so many do this.
What I can give you is the sense of what is happening. The feeling
or impression I have gotten from reading your letters over and over
again. The facts are there, but. the situation in each congregation
is unique and special, as is every human being and it is difficult to
catalogue or categorize them. But careful study does bring out a
pattern, a pattern that emerges, dimly at first, like a Polaroid print
taking shape. And it is on that emerging pattern that I can report
to you.

I . What is the nature of the Sabbath eve service?

Two services are reported; the traditional Kabbalat-Shubbat
Maariv, held presumably at sunset, and the late Friday eve service.

Most traditional sunset services are just that, traditional. In
the larger congregations a hazzan-sheni or an adult layman officiates.
In some, the hazzan officiates. When he does, it is generally in a
straightforward baal-tefillah style, with the same kind of chant-
accompaniment by the worshippers familiar to an orthodox service.
The congregation may join in L'cha Dodi, V'Shomru, Kaddish and
Kiddmh in addition to the formal responses.

30

In some congregations the sunset service is led by post-bar
mitzvah youngsters who have been trained singly or in a group to
chant the traditional service. What differentiates these baalei tefillah
from the layman or hazzan sheni is only the difference in age. A
number of hazzanim report that they may invite a bar mitzvah to
chant that service. The general feeling is that Kabbalat-Shabbat-
Maariv is one service which was traditionally led by laymen, and
that there is nothing new or disturbing in what they are doing.

The late Friday evening service, which was Conservative Juda-
ism's response to the socio-economic conditions of Jews in the 30' s
has noticeably deteriorated in the last ten years, in number, in
content and in importance.

At its height, the late service was held each Sabbath eve from
the end of Sukkot to Passover. The hazzan, assisted by the profes-
sional or volunteer choir, officiated. For the rabbi, it was the occasion
when he delivered his major sermon of the week.

When the ceremony of bat mitzvah became popular, the more
traditional congregations celebrated these on Friday evening. Be-
cause the basic Sabbath eve service is relatively short, and because
the time when it is held, 8, 8:15, 8:30, immediately following a
hastily eaten Sabbath meal, the service had to be limited to no more
than an hour or an hour and a quarter. What with the sermon
and the Bat. Mitzvah ritual, the time left for davening gradually
shrank. The service deteriorated slowly from a praying continuum
that ran with few interruptions from Barhu through Kiddush, to a
put-together series of prayer-like items in which the hazzan gradually
became a lesser and lesser participant.

As the vogue for more participation in the leadership of the
service by the bat mitzvah grew stronger, both the formal sermon
and hazzanic chant had to give way.

By now, where the later service still exists, the bat mitzvah has
taken over much of the bits of the service. It cannot be called
"clavening." because it is as far from that as painting-by-number is
from the Mona Lisa. The hazzan is reduced to "doing one cantorial
solo." To my mind the cantorial solo in this context is not "daven-
ing, it is not an act of a sheliah tribbur. At best, it is the act of
a sacred entertainer. Reading between the lines I gather that some
men delude themselves into thinking that they are davening when
they "do" the opening hymn, the one cantorial solo and lead in
some Israeli or quasi-hasidic tunes, a mish-mash which may or may
not have any relationship to the matbeah shel tefillah of the Sabbath
eve service.

31

Some men are terribly unhappy about this. One colleague writes,
after describing such a service:

"I have never put this down on paper before. I am angry and
frustrated by it. I am rendered powerless to correct it. At this
point, after many years here, I find it difficult to leave the creature
comforts offered me and mine and therefore I remain here looking
for an opportunity to return to our more musically creative services
of the past."

Yet, another colleague, from the same state, writes:

"Your request for a survey of liturgical encroachments is inter-
esting and to me somewhat amusing I find myself inviting
encroachments. People learn by doing. If making Kiddush in the
synagogue will lead a bar mitzvah, or his father, to make Kiddush
at home, let him do it! The more nusah and the more hazzanut the
members of our congregations know, the more valuable they are
to the cantor. If we encourage lay participation instead of "hogging"
the nmud too much, the lay Baal Tefillah will be more likely to live
on — and with him the synagogue service as we know it."

It would have been helpful had this colleague sent along an
outline of his services so that we might know what he means when
he speaks of "lay participation," and what he does, but he did not.

Another colleague, whose services have remained reasonably
untouched by the kind of changes I described above, feels secure
for the moment, but adds:

"With the general trend in many other congregations to abrogate
the traditional role of the hazzan, there may come a time in the
future when I will also he questioned on the role of the hazzan.
As of now. however, I feel fortunate in that I am completely in con-
trol of the situation and I hope that it will continue."

Not all the men articulated their feelings as explicitly and you
have to learn to read hetween the lines. I would say that we are
divided about two to one. For every hazzan who seems pleased at
the way things are, tuo are not.

So much for the participants. What about the quality of the
service?

In most cases, where there is some kind of choir, the music is
not much different than it was thirty years ago. There are excep
tions. These are mostly in the larger, more affluent suburban,
smaller city congregations, who are, again for the most part, served
by superior hazzanim who devote time and effort and have the
budget to prepare music for the service that is of a high quality.

32

One that suggests variety and shows a real attempt to create the
difficult synthesis of good music and prayer.

But in the majority of cases reported, what has happened is
best described by our colleague, Cantor Stephen Richards, Editor of
Transcontinental Music Publications, in an article which he has
sent me for publication in the June issue of the "Journal of Syna-
gogue Music." He speaks primarily of Reform congregations, but
the responses I received lead me to conclude that his assessment
holds true of our congregations as well:

"Many congregations have tried to stimulate active participa-
tion in worship by converting the sanctuary into a camp, where
song-leaders have been so successful in involving young people in
singing together.

"Everyone stomps, or claps, in an effort to recapture their youth
and the aroma of pinetrees. The hazzan is replaced by a song-leader,
or struggles to imitate one. The rabbi tries to act an example for
the congregation and sings loudly. The organ gives way to the
guitar, or even worse, is re-registered to imitate the guitar or ac-
cordion."

Our congregants have gotten it into their heads that so long
as a song has a Hebrew text, it is somehow a sacred song and ap-
propriate for inclusion in a prayer service. Camp-fire songs are meant
for camp fires. Zionist songs for Zionist events. Hasidic tunes are
for hasidim.

If someone wants to experience the ecstasy of a hasid's dialogue
with the Ribbono Shel Olam let him live like a hasid, let him believe
in the Rebbe, let him rule his life by the standards set by the Rebbe.
The ecstacy of the hasid is internal, it grows out of faith. Faith
does not grow out of ersatz ecstacy. One does not learn to play
the violin by imitating Itzhak Perl man's physical hand and finger
movements. Those are the result of a lifetime of devotion and study
and practice. Would-be hasidim should take note.

It is not only the quality of the music that I lament, but the
death of prayer that this music must in the end bring about.

In Hebrew, lehitpald is in the reflexive mood, derived from
palol, to judge. Rendering it in the reflexive makes of prayer an
act of self-judgment,, self-evaluation. Prayer is a mystical process
into which one does not. go cold. Prayer is a state of mind t.o which
one comes by gradually dropping off the burdens of the environ-
ment and losing oneself in thought and meditation. Our tradition
is wise. It does not rely on us to improvise stimuli to meditation.

33

It has provided us with a prayerbook, a prayerbook that sees
the world in constant need of repair, in constant need of the human
touch to make peace, to erase poverty, injustice and oppression, to
provide sustenance, to offer love and forgiveness and an opportunity
for repentance. A prayerbook that sees man in all his potential and
yet recognizes his imperfections, that acknowledges the Master of
all Creation, yet invites man to become a co-worker with Him in
renewing creation each day. A prayerbook that knows how to
praise God and the works of man.

To understand this we need a spiritual atmosphere that matches
the grandeur of the issues. Hevenu Shalom Aleichem, Havah Nagi-
lah and even Yismechu HaShamayim will not measure up.

But we live in an age where humanity does not seem concerned
with these issues, and perhaps for that reason we chose Hava
Nagilah rather than a prayer from the prayerbook. Ours is a time
of extreme narcissism. We spend most of our waking hours looking
at ourselves in the mirror, taking our medical, emotional, social,
sexual and cultural pulse every hour on the hour. Interested in
neither the past nor the future, the commercial vendors of nostalgia
can package it and sell it to us with ease.

My responses indicate that the synagogue is not immune. We
are as much on the run from reality in the synagogue as we are
in the home or in the market place. Our voices grow daily more
strident, our needs more exotic, our concerns more limited to what
satisfies and glorifies us, our lives more hedonistic, our roles more
confused, our families more divided, and ultimately our mental
institutions more overcrowded.

II. The Sabbath morning service.

If I had to generalize, I would say that the service is either
very good or very bad, if you define "good" as well attended, gen-
erally led by the hazzan and where the ambiance is that of J ews
at prayer. By "bad," I mean, poorly attended, led by an assort-
ment of adults, junior cantors, bar mitzvah's, etc.; and most im-
portant, where you do not get the feeling that this is a prayer
experience in which an intelligent and reasonably knowledgeable
Jew can become involved.

The Sabbath morning service seems to be generally a more
traditional one, perhaps because the more traditional and observant
J ew is likely to attend.

Most colleagues report a bare minyan attendance when there
is no bar or bat mitzvah.

34

Here the matbeah sheltefilah is adhered to a bit more con-
sistently, at least in outline. There is some form of P'sukei d'zimra,
from their entirety all the way to one or two paragraphs. The
liteurgy from Shokhen Ad until the Amidah is almost always left
intact.

The more traditional congregations repeat both amidot, but
even there we have signs that on occasions the repetition of one
or the other amidah is omitted. In a good percentage of congre-
gations the omission of the repetition of both amidot is automatic.

The question of the participation of the bar mitzvah was
answered in many ways. A number of men reported proudly that
they lead the entire service, but that some b'nai mitzvah could chant
P'sukei d-timra, the Torah Service, (Ein Kamocha, etc.) and the
conclusion of the Musaf (Ein Kelohenu, Adon Olam). It rarely
failed, however, that a respondent would add — shamefacedly, or
as an afterthought, that there were b'nai mitzvah who were per-
mitted to chant as much as the entire service. But, the colleague
usually added, under his designation and direction.

The more traditional congregations reported larger attendance
and more of the service led by the hazzan. As the traditionalism
increased, the bar mitzvah participation in tefilah decreased in favor
of the hazzan. In all cases bar and bat mitzvah candidates were
free to read as much of the Torah and the Haftorah as they could
manage to learn. No one reported that b'nai mitzvah read the
entire sidrah, but I know from other sources, including my own
experience, that this is an option open to the bright student, and
also to one who comes from a more traditional family.

There were also a good number of hazzanim who reported that
they trained and used junior choirs on Sabbath mornings to assist
in the service, and perhaps, to increase attendance.

Attendances ranging from a struggling minyan to over one
thousand on an ordinary Sabbath were reported. These figures
increase with the traditionalism of the congregation. It is of some
interest that none of the congregations (of those reporting) that are
known to be left-wing and willing to experiment with new prayer
techniques and formats reported any remarkable attendances. There
were no comments at all on the effort on attendance, if any, from
granting aliyot or minyan-membership status to women.

If you were to ask me to describe an average Sabbath morning
service from the survey, I would say that it is one in which the
traditional matbeah shel tefilah is followed, although some indi-
vidual tefillot may be omitted. At least one amidah is not repeated.

36

A bar mitzvah can, and usually does officiate for up to one half of
the liturgy.

I gather that there is still some sense of prayer continuity and
that very little outside material is added, except perhaps some
special readings by the rabbi for special occasions.

Insofar as the music of the Sabbath morning service is con-
cerned, all colleagues report a strict adherence to nusah in their
chanting. In the few cases where there are choirs, the music is
predictably of the Sulzer, Lewandowski, Nowakowski genre.

What is still a great unknown is the nature of the tunes used
for congregational singing. Many colleagues report singing some
"Israeli and hasidic" tunes, whatever these may be. All claim to
have developed considerable congregational singing, but with little
indication as to the kind of melodies favored by the hazzan and
congregation.

There you have such facts as I could filter out of the over
100 responses which I received. The purpose of the survey was
to get a reading on where we are at. No, we are not at a cross-road,
nor are we in a crisis. In an ever more quickly changing world it
is appropriate to take time, every so often, to get a reading on where
we seem to be heading. After due and deliberate consideration we
can decide whether a mid-course adjustment is necessary, whether
we have moved badly in the wrong direction, or whether we are
on course and we need only nod our heads approvingly and go right
on doing what we are doing.

To come to any decision regarding how true our course is, we
must look to the past. Not because it helps to predict the future,
nor because it is necessarily a good guide on how to live in the
present, but because it is a standard against which we can deter-
mine who we are, where we are, how we got here; and most impor-
tant, to learn from the past what is lasting and what is a flash
in the pan.

Because ultimately, for reasons of our individual uniqueness,
we will each have to evaluate our own progress and determine
our own future conduct, our discussions must necessarily be per-
sonal and subjective. And I believe that this is as it should be.

Perhaps, in earlier years, I might have been more certain that
I could speak for and to a broad entity called Conservative hazzanut.
The longer I live the more I realize how impossible that is. I really
can speak only for myself. If you find my opinions match yours,
then you might consider acting as I plan to act. If they differ from

mine, remember that I am not licensed to predict the future, and
your guess is probably as good as mine.

I hope that such an uncontroversial stand will not be inter-
preted as a waning of either courage or energy, but rather as a slight
increase in wisdom.

Let me then share with you my feelings about the survey.

Hazzanut, the art of leading a service, is at present for many
hazzanim, at a low ebb. I, personally, feel — about myself — the
exact opposite but I cannot overlook the very real fears and doubts
expressed to me in the survey.

I think, however, that many of my unhappy colleagues are
unhappy for what are ultimately the wrong reasons. They are
unhappy because their "exposure," their "visibility" has either
been reduced or is in danger of being reduced. I can understand
this, and I can appreciate that any leader who wants to lead must
have an ego, and must be "visible" and "exposed" if he is to
succeed.

But I am afraid that this complaint cannot be successfully
defended to a concerned layman. It is too easily summed up as
an ego-trip. Even some of our colleagues alluded to that danger.

I am concerned when a hazzan is not given an opportunity to
practice his sacred craft. Not because his feelings are hurt, but
because if it is allowed to continue, intentionally or not, the ancient
and treasured special kind of Jewish prayer will die. Jews can
only pray, really pray, in the mesmerising age-old sprich-stime chant
tuned by nusah to the calendar, expanded or contracted, simplified
or elaborated upon by reason of the condition of the davener's soul.
Todaven, to put on tall it and tefillin and to recite Shaharit, whether
in private at home or in the company of others in the synagogue
is to set in motion a whole syndrome of activity: reading, remem-
bering, chanting, singing, swaying, a mystic casting off of the here
and now and an inevitable mysterious union with the past. For me,
remembering and the reunion with the past are strongest when I
daven, whether at the amud or at home, and as I grow older that
magnetism, that pull of the past to be remembered, grows stronger.

When a Jew davens with a skilled baal tefillah these evoca-
tions come more easily, more beautifully, more spontaneously. That
is what I consider my task to be. If I am not permitted to perform
my task, how will my congregants even know how to daven? In the
past, they could learn from a father, a grandfather, a neighbor, even
a pious metamed or rebbe. Today, there are few pious melamdim;
fathers and even grandfathers stumble over aliyah brakhot at chil-

37

dren's and grandchildren's bar mitzvahs. Where will the young
generation learn this act, this skill, this precious skill, if not from us.

If you have any doubts about my evaluation, let me pose one
question. You all have seen Jews shok'l baym davenen, sway in
in prayer. If you want to know whether what is going on in a
synagogue is davening or worship, look to see whether anyone shokl't
zikh. I'll wager no one, not even the most loyal congregant, shokl't
zikh while reading Page 18 in the Siddur: 'True and certain it is
that there is one God, and there is none like unto Him."

So it is prayer and not exposure we should focus on. I have
some thoughts on how we might proceed, but I would like to save
those for the discussion.

What about hazzanic style?

From what I have already said in the first part of my talk,
you may have gathered that I think very little of the aforemen-
tioned "cantorial solo." It sits like some exotic creature in the
midst of a mundane setting. No matter how beautifully chanted,
can a real old-fashioned recitative, or even a modern imitation of
an old fashioned recitative have any meaning for a listener (not
davener) who does not understand the words, either the literal and
the implied meaning. Perhaps the time could be better used for
some other form of hazzanic skill.

Where there is no core of daveners in a synagogue the hazzan
must find some way to educate his congregants, young and old, to
bring them up to a level of understanding and appreciation from
which point they can be moved by a Hashkivenu.

In a talk given at the second annual Cantors Assembly Con-
vention, February 1949, Adolph Katchko, made a point which is
worth repeating:

"It is of special importance in the modern Conservative and
Reform congregation that the Hazzan make an effort to utilize the
correct nusah because in these synagogues where the J ew is skilled
in prayer and accustomed to pray b'kol rom, out loud, the prayer
has already been "davened," its nusah enunciated by the daveners,
before the hazzan gets to it, and the hazzan can hardly sing another
nusah. But in the synagogues where there is no prior davening,
where the congregation is largely a silent one, it becomes the duty
of the hazzan to be secure in his nusah and not stray from it.
Otherwise, there is the risk that many of our beautiful traditional
melodies may be forgotten because of disuse.

"A beautiful voice and talented singing are by themselves not
sufficient to arouse the spark of religious emotion. More than a

voice is required for that. It is the authentic nusah that must go
with the voice, because deep down, even in the most reformed J ew
there glimmer sparks of nusah here and there, which only the hazzan
can hope to revive."

What the survey says to me, in a general way, is that some
of us have drifted in prayer style, in content, in our sense of liturgical
propriety away from the foundations on which hazzanut evolved.
We have come almost full circle away from an authentic hazzan-
congregation relationship and have put something ersatz in its place.
Maybe we need to reexamine our tendency to give in too easily to
a popular, catch tune because we know it will make a hit.

Not too long ago we were all convinced that Sheldon Harnick
and Jerry Bock who wrote the music and lyrics to "Fiddler" had
managed to create a new folk-song in our time. There was not a
Jewish wedding celebrated anywhere where "Sunrise-Sunset" was
not heard. If not in the service then certainly at the dinner that
followed. Like it or not, we thought, here was a "traditional folk
song" created right before our eyes. Yet today, it is rarely heard.
But "Oyf'n Pripitshok" by Mark Warshavski remains a living classic.

Today you won't get an argument when you say that "Oseh
Shalom" is a modern mi-Sinai tune, created in our own day. Hardly
a service where it is not heard. But it, too, will fade, while Sulzer
and Lewandowski remain popular, even with younger congregants
who did not grow up in a German-J ewish congregation.

I think that this should be a guide in choosing congregational
tunes, choir music, hazzanic chants, etc. I know this seems to fly
in the face of everything some of us who have preached contemporary
music have been saying. But circumstances change cases.

Our congregations are not all peopled with vulgar, selfish illiter-
ates. There is a growing number of young marrieds who are gradu-
ates of Hebrew camps, who have had a Hebrew education, who do
have a warm feeling for J udaism and who are, person for person,
a good 100% more cultured and educated than were their parents.

Strangely, you will not find them in the ultra-liberal wing of
your congregation, but. in the traditional wing. They are in the
synagogue because they are seeking an oasis of serenity, a focus
for spiritual meaning in their lives, a remembrance and revival of
the way things used to be.

You see it, this desire to be old-fashioned, somewhat exagger-
ated, in the far out fashions and fads of the young.

There is, too, a growing body of retired people, people with
more leisure time. I'm not including here those who move from

39

their home-town to Floridian or Californian retirement centers, but
those who remain close to their roots. They, too, are seeking a
spiritual quality in their lives and they hope to find it in the syna-
gogue. We have over 100 such men and women who attend every
lecture, every class, every service. Obviously, they find something
satisfying there. These two generations, each in their own way, are
looking for support, for self knowledge and emotional and religious
security in the synagogue.

They come in search, if you will, of the past, of nostalgia. In-
stead of ersatz, why not try to provide a genuine response. If they
are interested in the past, why not give them the tried and true.

And to my dear friends, the composers of contemporary music,
the protagonists of moving with the times philosophy, I say: "I'm
sorry. For the moment I must ask you to step aside. Before our
people can deal with new and innovative things they must be at
home with the traditions of the past.

I know you will tell me that I am not being realistic. That
if it is true that we face highly educated and sophisticated congre-
gations, how can we expect them to turn back the clock when they
enter the synagogue? How can we ask a Thursday night Philhar-
monic concert-goer to scale down his musical tastes from Ives and
Schoenberg to Sulzer and Lewandowski and Goldfarb when they
come to the synagogue on Friday night? I used to ask that question
myself.

I think I can do that because Friday night is Shabbes and all
that the word evokes, and Thursday night is concert night. I look
for different things on each of these nights. I have even made peace
with the idea that we do not have any Beethovens or Mozarts or
Handels in Judaism. We know why we don't. The goyim never
permitted us to have them. But certainly we have had a whole
century of freedom in which to catch up, why haven't we caught up?

Maybe it is because the J ewish people in its wisdom, finds that
music, beautiful as it is, irrelevant to davening. It is good to listen to
but you can't daven to it.

Perhaps, in some years, if the younger generation of which I
spoke is not sidetracked, if it matures in its J ewishness and in its
knowledge we may have to reconsider, but for the moment, it is
time for nostalgia. Let us give them the genuine thing.

Finally, what about the kids? What is our responsibility to
them? Are they a threat?

I think we owe kids everything we can reasonably give them.
Most of them are deprived of a J ewish home-life, of J ewish inspira-

40

tion and of a J ewish perspective. Of course, they should be taught
to daven, even with a nigun. But taught to daven as any layman
in by-gone years could daven — as a layman. I do not think, that
they should be taught to be hazzanim — unless they aspire to that.
In which case they should be directed, at the proper time, to the
Cantors Institute.

I know that we are caught in a dilemma. On the one hand
parents and rabbis push us to place the kid at the amud, and we
know that for many of them this is the first and last time they will
be there. On the other hand, should we really fear the competition
of a well-trained young boy hazzan? And as a matter of fact, how
many of us were not at one time, boy-hazzanim?

If the training of children to officiate as a hazzan is required
of us, I am speaking now, not of davening as an ordinary J ew —
if we must, then we must make the requirements of sincerity and
preparation for kids as high as they are for anyone whom we would
invite to occuy the amud. This will serve two purposes. It will
discourage the dilettante and will improve the service and the prayer.

No, I do not think we have anything desperate to fear from
boy-hazzanim. We have more to fear from fearful and short sighted
hazzanim who do not know how to deal with an issue before it
develops. The wise hazzan will try, as diplomatically as possible,
to hold off indiscriminate granting of permission for boys to officiate.
By coming in with some reasonable plan beforehand, a solution can
be found on terms more appropriate to the needs of the congrega-
tion and the needs of the hazzan.

I know that I have not dealt at all with, or examined or dis-
cussed the critical forces which many hazzanim believe are respon-
sible for the changes which we have found in hazzanut. This is
not by oversight but rather because it was not within the scope of
the survey, although it did creep in through comments and through
reading between the lines. I am, of course, speaking of the role
which rabbis and synagogue governing bodies have played in bring-
ing about the situation which exists. It is also not possible to deal
with all the sociological, economic, demographic, theological and
philosophical ramifications of this complicated subject in one session.
The aim of the survey was to focus on our own contributions to
this state of affairs. While the other issues must be dealt with, it
was our feeling that we might better first get our own house in
order, get our own perspectives straight and our own priorities sorted
out. Since a good number of men are pleased with the way hazzanut
has developed these last ten years, it is obvious that they do not

41

feel put upon and that they have had a hand in bringing these
developments about.

This may cause some dissatisfaction with those hazzanim who
feel deprived and who are opposed to things as they have developed,
but I learned from a concentration camp survivor that the first
order of business for him and for those who suffered with him was
to survive. The very act of breathing in and out was in a very real
way an act of resistance to those forces whose explicit intent was to
snuff out their lives.

Fortunately, we are not in such a situation, but I think the
lesson we can learn is well taken. If, indeed, there are those in the
American J ewish community who are jealous of the stature of the
hazzan and for their own reasons would rather see him reduced to
that of an ordinary employee, then the first duty of such a hazzan
is to survive as a hazzan. So long as hazzanim remain in place and
are considered kid kodesh, and do have a part in leading in prayer
then there is still the hope and the possibility of one day returning
hatzanut to its proper place. We have seen greater miracles come
to pass.

We must not be discouraged.

42

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC

Richard Neumann: "YoM' enamori D'un Aire?' arranged for medium
voice and guitar No. 991025,

"Unu Matica ReDuda" arranged for medium voice,
flute and guitar, No. 991026, Trancontinental Music, New
York

Mr. Neumann and Transcontinental are to be congratulated
for these two welcome additions to the present catalogue of twelve
Ladin songs (with nine more soon to be released.) Both love songs
are skillfully arranged vocally and instrumental ly and offer attrac-
tive alternatives to the hazzan planning a special music program.
These Sephardic offerings should be called to the attention of the
voice faculties of local university music departments for their stu-
dents' study and performance.

Simon A. Sargon: Yismechu for Cantor (medium mixed choir and
organ, No. 991030, Transcontinental Music, New York

Approached with simple, hasidic sentiment, this Sabbath Eve
setting is quite accessible to volunteer choirs. While offering no
new revelations, its construction (reminiscent of Lazar Weiner's
"Hasidic Service") is certain to produce a pleasing response.

Samuel Adler: Chatsi Kaddish for Cantor, choir and organ, No.
991029, Transcontinental Music, New York

Dr. Adler's contribution to synagogue music may be classified
into two areas: Affective extensions of the liturgy through sophisti-
cated, dramatic compositions and utilitarian new arrangements of
traditional melodies. This piece falls into the latter category. By
creating an appropriately conservative melodic minor accompani-
ment and a correct rhythmic notation of the melody, Adler has pro-
vided the Conservative or more traditional Reform service with a
"meat and potatoes" setting. In question is the C natural used in
"ve-i-me-ru" as opposed to the more frequently heard C sharp.
Of special interest is the extended choral Amen which the composer
always does well.

Maurice Goldman: Mighty Hand for SATB chorus with keyboard
accompaniment. Hebrew words by Theodore Herzl, English
words by Miriam Kressyn, No. 991033, Transcontinental
Music, New York

43

Beginning with unison singing and culminating in homophonic
choral strength, Mr. Goldman's setting reminds us of the passionate
Zionist music of the fifties which was soon replaced by watered-
down Israeli folk-rock. It is a refreshing reminder; and one that
is unashamedly bold and patriotic. Goldman's forte is choral ar-
ranging and this anthem lies well for either volunteer or professional
ensembles. It is highly recommended for Yom Ha-atsmaut services
or any program that focuses on love of the J ewish homeland.

Maurice Goldman: Lecha Dodi for Tenor Cantor, SATB chorus with
keyboard accompaniment, No. 991016, Transcontinental
Music, New York

This is a curious setting. There are seven repetitions of the
chorus, inclusion of only the third verse and then seven more repe-
titions of the chorus. While the melodic and harmanic treatment is
interesting enough, why all this redundancy?

Speaking of excessive repetition, how many more versions of
Lecha Dodi can we expect from Transcontinental? There must be
ten to twenty settings of this text gathering dust in every hazzan's
music file. Why not commission a collection of contemporary Shab-
bat poetry for future musical consideration? Given a fresh text,
Maurice Goldman would be a fine composer to provide such a work.

Herbert Fromm: Sonata for Piano, No. 991042, Transcontinental
Music, New York

Dr. Fromm provides us with a vision that only an artist of
his stature can create. It is an abstract development of a literal
source (a Sephardic hymn tune) into an intimate, reflective fabric
bearing the composer's personal stamp.

There are three movements to the work: Allegro-Allegretto,
Slow, and Fantasy Fugue. After a brief introduction the theme
is stated and immediately undergoes interval and textural trans-
formation. The second movement alludes to the introductory mate-
rial and further explores ideas of melodic and rhythmic expansion.
The final movement is a freely shaped fugal structure that recalls
several ideas from former movements with episodic return to the
fugal subject. It is a challenging work for a pianist but by today's
standards certainly not extreme. While Dr. Fromm's intellectual
fascination with smaller musical units precludes the presence of a

larger melodic line, his contrapuntal and rhythmic sense sustains
continuous interest.

Why not promote a piano recital of J ewish music in your com-
munity? Transcontinental now offers twenty-seven separate piano
solo listings ranging from easy piano pieces for children to the
maturity of the Fromm Sonata. The promotion of these recitals
can encourage the creation of new instrumental works and breathe
freshness into a community's Jewish musical experience.

J udith M. Berman: Set Me As A Seal, A wedding song for low voice
and keyboard accompaniment, No. 991027, Transconti-
nental Music, New York

Lillian V. Klass: Ha-am Haholchim Bachoshech for high voice No.
991034 and medium voice, with keyboard accompaniment,
No. 991035, Transcontinental Music, New York

Among the composers represented in Transcontinental's latest
publications are two Los Angeles women. J udith Berman is the
founder and music director of the Musart Singers — an amateur
women's chorus of about twenty voices. Formerly music director of
University Synagogue in Brentwood, she and her singers are active
in performing music of J ewish content. Mrs. Berman has taken the
traditional text "Set me as a seal" and has set it in a mildly roman-
tic manner. While the music reflects the words appropriately, the
harmonies are rather stagnant. The metronome marking seems to
work against the instruction: "with warm feeling and quiet motion."
Mrs. Berman has also composed a full Friday Eve Service.

Lillian Klass, formerly music director of Temple Israel in Holly-
wood for twenty-seven years, studied with Castelnuovo-Tedesco
and accompanied Cantors Leib Glantz, Moshe and David Kousivit-
sky and Sholom Katz. She has set an interesting text from Isaiah 9.
Responding to a Methodist Minister's request for a Hebrew setting
of this Midnight Mass declaration ("For Unto Us a Son is Given")
she has created a solo (published in high and medium versions) that
will certainly find a life in churches and offers the creative pro-
grammer new material for Synagogue sponsored interfaith services.

Both women are to be congratulated for their good work and
encouraged to add their talents to a field that is now dominated
by men.

45

Program fashioners should seek out and encourage women in
the community with compositional ability to write for the synagogue.
The "women composer" concert that might be planned as a novelty
can offer very real revelations about musical talents that have not
fully received a proper forum as of yet.

Michael Isaacson

Members of the Cantors Assembly:

Ahai adirey hazimrah, pifiyot sheluhey amkha bet Yisrael.

It was my good fortune to be present at the 32nd Annual Con-
vention of the Cantors Assembly, the largest and most influential
association of cantors in the world and I would like to take this
means of greeting you and of expressing some thoughts which this
visit raised in my heart.

At the end of the A vodah on Yom Kippur we say: "Ashrey ayin
raatah kol eylah, ashrey ozen sham' ah hameshorerim v'khol miney
shirim." These are precisely my feelings. I thank you for the invi-
tation to be present as your guest and it is my privilege to bring
you the best wishes of the Cantors Association of Israel and the
personal good wishes of its chairman, Cantor Benjamin Ungar. I am
proud that a former chairman of that group, Hazzan Shabtai Acker-
man, was honored by his congregation and by your organization with
the establishment of a scholarship in his honor.

This was your 32nd convention. In gematriu, 32 is Lev, heart,
and I feel that there is a great heart in all your activities. Every-
thing that you have done is with, Lev and with special care and
respect for our ancient heritage, the music of the prayers.

I need not remind you that there is another Lev in J ewish life
today, the State of Israel. I would hope that the Cantors Assembly
would make a commitment that as an outgrowth of the 32nd, the
Lev Convention, there will grow a new bond between the Cantors
Assembly and the State of Israel with a decision to make a Shalom
Tour to Israel in a group as the Cantors Assembly. It is also my
hope that students of the Cantors Institute will be afforded the
opportunity, just as rabbinical students are, to spend a year of
study in Israel.

May the Almighty send His best wishes to all of you.

God Bless you.

Shalom, Shalom!

Akiva Zimmermann
19 Pinkas
Tel Aviv
Israel

LETTERS FROM OUR READERS

May I first thank you for the privilege of having my article,
"Haftarah for the Off-Key Singer" published in the March issue of
the Journal of Synagogue Music.

I should like to call your attention to a transcription error on
page 9 which may have confused your readers. The corrected sec-
tion of the paragraph involved follows:

There is another aspect of listening. When you sing a two-
syllable word such as mi-kol, on one tone, your student may hear
each syllable on a different tone. He may say that the tone of mi
was higher than the tone of kol, or vice versa. Either answer may
be interpreted as indicating very keen hearing. The reason he has
heard two tones, however, is that he listened to the speech formants
instead of the fundamental of the sung tone. The ee of mi has a
higher formant than the u of kol. If he heard mi lower than kol,
he at least heard that the two formants were different.

Lottie Hochberg