Cantors Assembly Journal of Synagogue Music

JOURNAL

OF SYNAGOGUE MUSIC

March 1980 / Adar 5740

Volume IX

Number 4

CONTE NTS

Traditional J ewish Material in

Schoenberg 's "A Survivor from WARSAW" Charles Heller 3

Surviving Future Shock :

Some Other Views 9

Charles Davidson 10

David Til man 22

Michael Isaacson 29

Two Sabbath Eve Prayers:

New Translations and Commentary Elliot B. Certel 32

DE PARTM E NTS

view of New Music
Hebrew Songs for All Seasons, Susan C. Searles
Two High Holiday Settings, Sydney Hodkinson
Hashirim Asher L'Yehudah, Leo Rosenbluth
Psalm 23, Michael Isaacson

Volume IX, Number 4
March 1980 / Adar 5740

Abraham Lubin

iitor: Samuel Rosenbaum

editorial board: J acob Barkin, David Brandhandler, Israel Gold-
stein, Morton Kula, Saul Meisels, Solomon Mendelson, Morton
Shames, Moses J. Silverman, Hyman Sky, Pinchas Spiro.

business manager: Yehudah Mandel

' the cantors assembly: M orton Shames, President;
Abraham Shapiro, Vice President; Ivan Perlman, Treasurer; Saul
Hammerman, Secretary; Samuel Rosenbaum, Executive Vice Presi-
dent.

■sic 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 © 1980, Cantors Assembly

TRADITIONAL JEWISH MATERIAL

IN SCHOENBERG'S

A SURVIVOR FROM WARSAW, OP. 46

Charles H eller

Of all Schoenberg's serial compositions, A Survivor from War-
saw' is probably the one which makes the most immediate im-
pact on a general audience. This is due to the compelling nature of
the events in the story and the way they are described, leading to
the climax at the singing of the Shema Yisroel, the Hebrew name
for the affirmation of the Jewish faith. Much of the impact of this
work comes from the way in which a unison male chorus suddenly
bursts into singing the Shema, in its original Hebrew, to a theme
with a particularly singable and memorable contour (Ex. la). I wish
to discuss this theme and account for its significance by describing
its similarities with a traditional melody for the same words as sung
by European Jews.

Example I

H* itfn . u » r |r h rrn | V r T |T t

■ v i roY^^ f

Two versions of the traditional Jewish melody are compared with
Schoenberg's theme in Ex. 1. Example lb is by the German cantor
Abraham Baer2 and Ex. Ic is the version of the French cantor

'Arnold Schonberg: SamtlicheWerke, Abteilung V. Reihe A. Band 19. Chorwerke II
(Mainz. Wien: B. Schotfs Sohne, Universal Edition, 1975).

2 Abraham Baer, Baal Vfillah, Oder Der PractischeVorbeter (Frankfurt a.M ., 2nd Ed.,
1883).

Charles Heller is Choi
in Downsview, Ontario.

Reprinted with permission from the March 1979
the Arnold Schoenberg Institute."

Director at Beth Emeth Bais Yehuda Synagogue
of the "Journal of

Samuel Naumbourg.3 Each festival in the year has its own tradi-
tional melody for the singing of the Shema, but the examples quoted
are versions of the melody used on the most solemn occasions, i.e.,
during the synagogue service for the New Year and Day of Atone-
ment, as well as the "Profession of Faith" service at the close of the
Day of Atonement. The melodies used in these services are regarded
by the mass of the Jewish people as being particularly solemn and
significant. The Hebrew text as sung in the synagogue is taken from
Deuteronomy VI, verse 4; Schoenberg not only set this verse but also
verses 5 through 7. (These verses, together with verses 8 through 10,
are also part of the Jewish liturgy, but are recited in a monotone.)
When the Shema is sung in the synagogue, the conventional style of
performance is for the melody to be sung by the cantor, then re-
peated by the choir and congregation in harmony, as for example in
Naumbourg's harmonization (Ex. 2). Baer did not provide a har-
monization but his general style assumes that his music may be
harmonized ad lib. in a simple way by any choir.

Example 2

<'W ' i'3!^ '(J 'rlj Wi 1 /'i©! 11 ^

wrii'-^ i| i r^ \ a '^ \ }f *F i r.^rrK qp

Whether Schoenberg was consciously referring to a traditional
theme or not, there is an audible similarity between his version and
the traditional versions. They all have a similar melodic contour,
which begins with a falling phrase for the words Shema Yisroel, an
upward leap on Adonoi followed by a fall on Eloheinu, and then
another leap up on Adonoi and a final fall on Echod. This contour
naturally follows the phrasing of the spoken words. The intervals
used at cadential points are themselves the same in the traditional
version and Schoenberg's version. Thus the words Shema Yisroel
embrace the fall of a fifth. The last syllable of the next word, Adonoi
is sung to a pitch higher than any used previously, being a wide
distance from the last syllable of Yisroel. This interval is a minor
sixth in Schoenberg's theme, an octave in Baer's version, and a
minor seventh in Naumbourg's version. In all three versions, the

'Samuel Naumbourg, Zm i rot Yisrael, Chants Liturgiques de Crandes Fetes (Paris,
1847. Reprinted New York: Sacred Music Press, 1954).

penultimate word Adonoi uses pitch C, and the last word Echod
ends with the fall of a minor second, from Ab to G. Although Ex. lb
does not end with a falling minor second, the implied harmony
(which would of course be audible if a choir were performing) is a
progression from F minor to G major which incorporates the fall of
Ab to G by a minor second.

The last-mentioned feature is of particular importance since it is a
basic element of a great deal of traditional European Jewish music.
Much of this derives from the use of a particular scale known to
Jewish musicians as the "Phraigish" scale (the "Ahavoh Rabboh"
mode of ldelsohn4), sharing with classical Phrygian mode the inter-
val of a minor second between the first two steps (Ex. 3). This
characteristic interval of a minor second has been described by
Schmidt' as forming a sighing motive in op. 46, symbolizing the
suffering of the Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto.

Example 3

The Shema is musically the climax of the work, as Schmidt de-
scribes^ the singing of this passage is the core of the actual drama.
It is reasonable that Schoenberg would have referred to a tradi-
tional motive when composing a striking melody for the Shema, or
else would have chosen a melody with certain obvious or traditional
features that the traditional melody could also be shown to use for
the same purpose. If Schoenberg was indeed quoting a traditional
theme, the question of its relationship to the basic series of the work
needs to be discussed. Schoenberg's theme is a six-pitch melody, the
first hexachord of the basic series transposed up by four semitones
(P4). The entire row (Po) and the P4 transposition are given in Ex. 4.

Example 4

4A. Z. Idelsohn, Jewish Music in its Historical Development (New York: Holt,
Rinehart and Winston, 1929. Reprinted New York: Shocken Books, 1967).

5C. M. Schmidt, "Arnold Schon bergs Kantate 'Ein Uberlebenderaus Warschau' Op.
46," Archiv fur Musikwissenschaft, 33/4(1976), p. 261.

6 Ibid., p. 268.

The requirements of Schoen berg's serial method of composition re-
strict the literal quotation of material from outside the work but
nonetheless the pitches available in P4 are sufficient to create
Schoenberg's traditional-sounding theme. Since the whole work is
derived from one basic series, it is possible that the series itself was
constructed with the knowledge that it would later have to be trans-
formed into the Shema melody. Indeed we know from Schoenberg's
draft that the music breaking into the Shema was a primary idea in
the work's composition.' This dramatic conclusion, the singing of
the Shema, is described by the narrator at the opening of the work,
using the words "... they all started to sing . the old prayer
the forgotten creed." At this point (mm. 18-21) the horn quotes the
actual Shema melody as given in Ex. la.

The idea that op. 46 contains authentic Jewish musical material
has already been suggested by Gruhn,8 who refers to the ex-
tramusical, emotional significance that such a quotation would
have. He also notes that the phrase which he identifies as this quota-
tion (at the words uvahol ms'ddeho, mm. 89-90, Ex. 5) does not ap-
parently relate to the basic series of the work. This idea has been
criticized on the grounds that the passage in question was omitted
in the first draft of the work, and was later inserted to follow the
'cello part.9

Example 5

It might also be pointed out that the quotation of a traditional
theme would have less expressive effect if it were placed in the mid-
dle of a passage, as is the case with the phrase uvzhol ms'ddeho,
instead of at the beginning, or any other conspicuous place. Further,
contrary to what Gruhn says, this phrase is not a traditional "ni-
gun" (melody) known to Jews through chanting the Talmud, except
insofar as it resembles the speech pattern of the words involved,

'Ibid., p. 268.

8W.. Gruhn "Zitat und Reihe in Schonbergs 'Ein Uberlebender ausWarschau',"
Zeitrchrift fur Muriktheorie, 5/1 (1974), p. 32.
9C. M. Schmidt, loc. cit. (see footnote 5), p. 270.

since the Talmud is not recited to any fixed melody, but half-
chanted according to the sense of the text. 10

We have 'discussed here the importance of the Shema to op. 46,
both as a key part of the drama and as an important element in the
musical structure. Also of importance are the ideas implicit in the
words of the Shema, "Hear Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is
One." That Schoenberg himself regarded these ideas as important is
indicated by his writings and by the choice of subjects for his
works.ll As already mentioned, utterance of the Shema is symbolic
of the Jew's devotion to his faith, and it was in this faith that
Schoenberg found inspiration throughout the major part of his life.
Five of his last eight compositions deal specifically with Jewish
themes; but for many years earlier, indeed from as early as 1912, as
suggested by Ringer, 12 Schoenberg had followed a line of religious
development that he found already-expressed in Old Testament
themes, One such theme, as Schoenberg himself wrote in a letter to
Walter Eidlitz dated 1933, 13 is "the idea of the inconceivable God"
which Schoenberg internalized as the inconceivability of a final goal
in life. Life was constantly a process of searching despite all obsta-
cles. Schoenberg returned to this theme on many occasions: in
Jacob's Ladder (the text completed in 1917) the Archangel Gabriel
declares: "One must go on without asking what lies before." Simi-
larly in Moses and Aaron (the text begun in 1928 and the second act
completed in 1932) the Voice in the Burning Bush declares, in a
paraphrase of Amos III, verse 2: "This people is chosen , . to be the
people of the only God that it undergo all trials .." The devo-
tion of the Jews to their ideals throughout their history, despite all
trials, resembled Schoenberg's own devotion to what he considered
to be a task he had to do.

lOThe reader who wishes to see examples of these chants will find them in Chemjo
Vinaver. Anthology of Jewish Music (New York: Edward B. Marks Music Corp., 1955).

ILFor a fuller discussion of this topic, see Peter Gradenwitz, "The Religious Works
of Arnold Schoenberg," Music Review, 21(1960), pp. 19-29.

"Alexander L. Ringer, "Arnold Schoenberg and the Prophetic Image in Music,"
J ournal of the Arnold Schoenberg Institute, 1 /1( 1976). p. 28.

13Erwin Stein, ed., Arnold Schoenberg Letters, translated by Eithne Wilkins and
Ernst Kaiser (London: Faber and Faber, 1964). p. 172.

From the belief of God's Unity, or rather Uniqueness, stems the
Jew's conception of unity in mankind and in the universe. We find
this expressed in the final words of Moses and Aaron (which
Schoenberg did not live to set to music), which look forward to such
a union with God. The same belief is incorporated in Kol Nidre op.
39, the text of which deals with God's forgiveness of Jews who had
been forced to stray from their pure, monotheistic path in a Chris-
tian, but not godless, environment. Since these ideas were central to
his own beliefs, Schoenberg must have found added significance in
the incorporation of the Shema into the events described in op. 46.
The dramatic story of the singing of the Shema by the inmates of the
Warsaw Ghetto in the face of death provided not only the material
for this piece, but provided an actual symbol for Schoenberg's own
life and ideas.

SURVIVING FUTURE SHOCK:
SOME OTHER VIEWS

Under this title there appeared in the J une 1979 issue of the
JOURNAL OF SYNAGOGUE MUSIC a talk delivered by Hazzan
Samuel Rosenbaum, Executive Vice President of the Cantors As-
sembly, at the 32nd annual convention of that organization. The
talk constituted Hazzan Rosenbaum's Annual Report and was an
analysis of a survey which he had conducted on the evolving office
of the Hazzan. It included, as well, a proposal of some options for
dealing with emerging worship patterns in the American Conserva-
tive synagogue.

Appearing with Hazzan Rosenbaum as discussants, were Hazzan
Charles S. Davidson of Adath J eshurun, Elkins Park, Pa., and
Hazzan David Til man of Beth Sholom Congregation, Elkins Park,
Pa. Hazzan Davidson is a distinguished composer of synagogue
music, as well as a creative and articulate Hazzan; Hazzan Tilman
holds a postgraduate degree in J ewish music, is a talented choral
conductor and the Hazzan of a large and active congregation.

The publication in the J ournal of Hazzan Rosenbaum's report
elicited a number of comments, pro and con. Because we believe
that discussion of such a vital matter is of extreme importance to
the future of hazzanut, we want to publish as many of the com-
ments as possible. In order to give our readers the benefit of the
full discussion which ensued at the convention, we are publishing
below the comments on Hazzan Rosenbaum's paper made by Charles
Davidson and David Tilman.

Following that, is a response to Hazzan Rosenbaum's article
by Dr. Michael Isaacson, an energetic and talented composer living
in Los Angeles, who divides his time between synagogue music
and composing for television. There are a number of additional
comments which we hope to publish in succeeding issues.

We welcome any thoughts which our readers may have on
the subject.

10
DISCUSSIONS

HAZZAN Charles Davidson

We are aware that times have changed. The signs are clear for
those who know how to look. The guiding principles of secular
America seem to include: instant gratification, "me-too-ism", instant
appeal, short-term high interest speculatives, an unstable and
frightening economy, the spectre of a world winding-down without
adequate fuel.

In the midst of this confusion, religion seeks to justify its exis-
tence. To many, its relevance in a secular age is still moot. Organized
religion remains at a low point in all denominations except those of
the fundamentalists and "bom-again" evangelicals.

In addition to trying to justify its existence, Judaism seeks to
maintain at least a status quo while teaching the values and priori-
ties of the mitzvot to a rapidly declining American-Jewish popula-
tion, decimated by inter-marriage, a low birth rate and blase dis-
i nterest.

Schweitzer claims that "in age of sophistication, religion dis-
appears entirely." It would seem today, that many see religion as
a medieval concept no longer important and for which they have
substituted secular surrogates — and yet, people and their needs
are basically unchanged and still want to actualize themselves as
human beings. Religion has sustained the souls of men for 4,000
years. The fundamental concepts which have pointed the way to-
ward greater moral sensitivity in the past are still valid and are
needed to refute and counter balance the narcissistic secularism of
our time. As hazzanim by choice, with the obligation of service to
God and a people, we must function within those parameters.

Our Executive Vice President is blessed or cursed with an acute
awareness of cause and effect. He understood the religious and
sociological waves of change throughout the past decade and the
changes, voluntary and involuntary, which resulted from them. With
others, he foretold the confrontations of the 80's and has been a
constant reminder to us, repeatedly and consistently, of the changes
in our communities and our lack of response to them over the years.
He outlined the general areas of concern as far back as the 1960's
and begged the cantorate to respond to problems, then in their
infancy:

11

I. The lifeless quality of many worship services.
II. The disappearance of J ewish musical authenticity.

III. The abandonment of J ewish values generally.

IV. The disinterest of synagogue leadership in providing a
spiritual oasis when that effort came into conflict with
"financial accountability."

V. The lack of incentive for J ewish music creativity.
VI. The continuing conflict between synagogue professionals,
particularly in terms of "livening-up" the worship service.
VII. The deterioration of the position of Hazzan.

Do you remember hearing the following?

"Somehow, as individuals, we have become bogged down in
the daily grind. We are so involved with personalities,
salary, status, working conditions, insurance and retirement
that we rarely have the time or energy to think about any-
thing else . . . the cynicism with which many of our
generation are so dangerously infected seems to have cap-
tured us as well. Somewhere along the line we seem to have
given up the future."

These quotations are from "Epitaph for J ewish Music?" printed
in the September, 1968 issue of "The Journal of Synagogue Music."

This article appealed to the cantorate in particular and the J ewish
community in general to rescue J ewish music creativity from what
Samuel Rosenbaum felt was a short-lived revival soon to come to an
ignominous end.

He said that plagiarism in a true sense was being practiced on
a large scale by those who saved a few pennies reproducing music
on a copier rather than by purchasing it. "In trying to save money
in this fashion," he stated, "we are actually saying to our congre-
gations that J ewish music doesn't deserve serious budgetary con-
sideration, that it is not worthy of a full budget and that we, as
practitioners in the field of Jewish music, do not understand, or
do not care to point up the importance of working with proper
materials." He might also have added that it deprived publishers
and composers of rightful royalties and recompense for the increas-
ing costs of publishing. Without those returns Jewish publications
could not be sustained nor would younger, talented composers
become interested in the field of Jewish music.

12

Well, that was the prophecy. What of the here and now?
How have we, as guardians of Jewish music, helped with the pro-
jected problem? Judging by the results we have done poorly. For
practical purposes, Jewish music publishers have disappeared. In
terms of composers of Jewish music still alive in America; 6 are
cantors, 6 music directors (4 of whom are retired), 2 are musicol-
ogists or teachers on a college level. The rest are active in other
fields. Of the above, only 15 still compose for the synagogue, none
are younger than 30, 4 are between 30-40, 2 are between 40-50,
13 between 50-60, 8 between 60-70, 2 between 70-80 and 2 over 80.
The prophecy is fulfilled. (JWB Music Summary, 1978, Steven
Richards)

Hazzan Rosenbaum accurately described the future pattern
of many services when in 1967 ("Journal of Synagogue Music,"
September, 1967) he said: ". . . the congregation sits uncomfortably
well dressed, faces fixed, eyes shallow .. waiting for the Rabbi
to tell them it is time to pray. The Rabbi, Cantor and choir are
finally in their appointed places as they perform solos, duets, trios
and ensembles, but the hum of congregational prayer, the surge
and breath of prayer are frozen as if in a far away wasteland.
Once in a while the congregation joins in a perfunctory response,
or reading, or tune, but these are only barren islands scattered
over a vast sea of indifferent emptiness. But the prayer we so
desperately need, lies deep in the untouched recesses of the heart."

What, has happened in these ensuing years? How have we and
the synagogue met the challenge? Did we recognize a need for
change from "solos, duets and trios?" Do our services now reflect
a discernible quality of life or sense of prayerful dignity? Have
we been able to lead that passive unresponsive congregant to active
prayer?

And the congregant. Who is he? Where does he come from?
Who influenced him positively or who helped to "turn him off"?
If we are the musical strings he is our sounding board. His song
must be our response.

Twenty years ago, this Jew was a teen-ager, probably in a
Conservative synagogue. He was fashioned by the Conservative
Movement, molded by his teachers and now is either predisposed
against Institutional Religion as he understands it, or feels com-
fortable enough to function within it. If the service he was exposed
to came through as a meaningful and sincere one, he may seek

13

a similar religious experience now. He will be in favor of his
continued study of Jewish materials if he was so influenced as a
youngster or he may still remember a poor introduction to Jewish
learning presented by an apathetic teacher or unconcerned princi-
pal or Educational Director. The institutional budgetary problems
of the times that have prevented the creation of a large cadre of
competent, involved and dedicated Jewish educators continue to
increase with a further deterioration of the synagogue school.
Jewish communal astigmatism remains a serious problem!

Our contemporary congregant may remember "his" Rabbi and
Hazzan with love and respect but only if they were free enough
to show him the same; or he may not have been personally touched
at all by distant and lofty kley kodesh. How often in the past
years have many hazzanim been more interested in their own per-
formance at the amud to the complete neglect of the inter-personal
relationships that are so long lasting and meaningful in terms of
"life with people." Rabbanim, hazzanim, educational directors,
executive directors, have all neglected the obviously human rela-
tionships, heart to heart, face to face, soul to soul, the close kinship
each human being needs and seeks, and which are so necessary
to cement the Jewish value-scale, which includes music and t'fillot.

If you consider this portrait as exaggerated, nevertheless, it
is too close to reality for comfort.

On the other hand, many younger Jewish families are experi-
encing a real desire for commitment and for an involvement in
the ritual of worship-and many of them are without an adequate
background. They confront us with their presence. What is our
response to them? Do we stand by without serious thought to their
development? Do we shut our eyes and ears without comment as
they absorb direction from those ill-qualified to do so? What is
our reaction to obvious liturgical improvization, short-cuts, easy
to sing banal melodies, lack of proper nusah, indeed to a complete
lack of understanding of the tradition of prayer modes. How do
we respond?

Other younger congregants, quite conversely, feel no need for
prayer, no need for Hebrew as a skill, no need for ritual in any
sense. What is our response to them? They also confront us.

And . . ah, for the old familiar sound of davenen — for the
magic, insistent hum — for what the late revered Hazzan, Nehemiah

Mendelson, so aptly named: a "murmerai;" a continuum of prayer
chant that rose and filled the air.

Elliot Gertel reminds us that Judaism has "sought to conquer
time with mitzvot, whose cosmic significance, according to tradition,
cannot be measured. He quotes Heschel as saying that "creation is
the language of God, time is His song. To sanctify time is to
sing the vowels in unison with Him." Gertel claims that "Words,
when said, are judged against each other , . . but words when
sung, share modulations and become a unified hymn." That unified
hymn is nusah and to hazzanim nusah equates with Torah.

One could say that the concept of nusah hat'fillah is at a low
point, in most congregations, particularly those with no or with
part-time cantors. Who is thkre to teach, to instruct by example,
to supervise, to ensure the continuation of services chanted in
the proper nusah with intent and with musical integrity? Our
baale batim no longer have that instinct for tradition in prayer.
Jews have become strangers to nusah and to t'fillah. Are we re-
sponsible for this condition? Totally or in part? Another confron-
tation with the real world? How shall we proceed? By encouraging
ignorance? By keeping silent? By working towards progressive
change?

And what if we all were teachers in a true sense and could
provoke interest, transmit knowledge with the best of them-to
whom should we address ourselves? Can our congregants read
alef bet? Are most capable of reading Hashkivenu without error?
With correct punctuation? How can we teach nusah and davennen
to Jews who are unable to read fluently enough to communicate
freely with God, in His language. Another confrontation with the
present. The ill-prepared worshipper. What is to be our position?

Regardless of ability or "prayer-input" we all do acknowledge
the attendance at services of one group we call "regulars"; all
with varied talents and competence who do "come", who do try
to participate, who seem interested, for a variety of reasons. We,
as hazzanim, count upon their response; indeed, we rely upon their
understanding of the routine of ritual and ourselves derive a
sense of satisfaction when functioning as their sh'liach ttibbur.
How do we, and they, react to the influx of strangers attending
B'ney Mitzvah celebrations and who seem most uninterested in
the worship portion of the service. In many cases they confront
and challenge the rabbi and hazzan.

15

How unhappily we view them. In those synagogues and on
those occasions we are more than ever aware of our general con-
stituency and the presence of many who are attending services
under duress, perhaps under familial pressure and who would
rather be anywhere at that moment but in the synagogue. By their
presence, they physically separate those who would like to respond
and pray but who become inhibited and very, very quiet unless
there is a strong tradition of prayer and response in that congrega-
tion. The odds are that the influx of visitors will mute the usual
sound of response by sheer intimidation. Have some of us secretly
wished that those who wished to pray and participate might be
seated toward the front of the sanctuary while those who wished to
remain passive auditors would be seated to the sides and rear?
Ushers might ask the question of those who entered, "Passive and/
or confrontative" or "Willing to give us a chance"? One could
envision a synagogue theatre-in-the-round with worshippers front
and center and observers around the periphery.

Maurice Samuels envisioned the kind of shul atmosphere that
we all hope for, where "the art of 'davenen' ... the periodic con-
tact with religious emotion ... is a daily necessity to the pious
Jew. The davenner's soul is in the posture of prayer . . the
familiar exercise is a kind of hypnotic induction." But this aspect
of the art of prayer has generally disappeared; the responsorial,
audible answer to the hazzan' s question, grows ever weaker.

Ten years ago, Sam Rosenbaum, summarized the various reme-
dies current in an attempt to alleviate the tediousness which seemed
endemic in our service. "If people cannot or do not pray," he said,
"the logic went that there must be something wrong with service.
Start it later, finish earlier, make it shorter, make it longer, put in
an organ, take out the organ, more English, less Hebrew, better
refreshments, no refreshments, coffee hour, Kiddush, Oneg Shabbat,
shorter sermon, longer Torah lesson, more announcements, less
announcements, annual Torah cycle, tri-ennial Torah cycle, etc."

Now, ten years later, the "remedies" of the past continue to
be prescribed with the same negligible results. Juvenile concepts,
such as Hebrew school classes or youth congregation leading En
Kelohenu or Adon Olam in the main sanctuary or birthday greet-
ings delivered by the Rabbi to young celebrants asked to come to
the bimah are devices to both "liven-up" the service or to demon-
strate the leadership's affinity toward and closeness to the younger
generation. Again the wrong remedies for the wrong reasons-a

16

recapitulation of the "special inclusions in the Worship Service"
which Heschel decried pointing a finger of blame upon those who
sought to add spice to the service instead of considering how to
add kavannuh and worshipful dignity to the individual prayer effort.

Among recent experiments are the so-called "camp songs." In
the 40's and 50's songs of Russian and Palestinian origin were
standard fare for Jewish camps and Religious School music pro-
grams. They were viable and quite often very musical. Except in
rare instances the texts for these songs were non-liturgic. The
creation of Camps Ramah and their counterpart, NIFTY Camps,
have made an extraordinary impact on American Jewish life. Thou-
sands of young people have returned to their communities, imbued
with stronger Jewish values and excited about living as Jews. The
Jewish summer camp as exemplified by Ramah, is adding immeasur-
ably to the American Jewish community. In terms of the musical
impact of these camp situations, however, specifically in terms of
religious services, quite the converse is true. With the exception
of the efforts of the very early song leaders and others involved in
these camp programs, recent song leaders have done a disservice.
Too many tunes of questionable musicality have recently been
taught to children who brought them back to become part of the
communal experience. The texts of most recent additions to the
camp musical literature are of a liturgical nature and this com-
pounds the problem.

Some of these tunes were composed "on location," at camp,
some in the Yeshivah environment, but most were written in Israel
and specifically designed for commercial export. They are all attrac-
tive to youth and well suited for a summertime camp experience.
It was early felt by some cantors and musical directors, who
objected to the genre, that the poor musicality of these tunes
would soon be obvious to others; and of course, they would be so
demonstrably out of place in Sabbath services that it would be
unlikely that they could displace nusah hat'fillah. After all, hiddur
mitzvah requires praying with the best and most beautifully appro-
priate music for heaven directed worship. And although, as indi-
viduals, we all have varying concepts of beauty, hazzanim generally
felt that the vulgarity and obvious secularity of the tunes and
rhythms associated with campfires, dining halls and marching tunes
would never find hallowed places in the service per se.

"But soon the charismatic guitarist who knew a few chords
was equated with the cantor, the music director and the composer

17

of synagogue music, and both rabbanim and laymen seemed un-
willing to acknowledge the difference." Steven Richards claims that
"in the frenetic drive towards congregational participation, the
lowest common denominator is sought-that tune which stirs
reaction most quickly- not because of its worth as a tune but
because of its sociological effect on a mass." He continues, "there
has been an attempt to turn our synagogues into camps because
of the successful summer worship experience many children have
in camping situations." (J WB Summary, 1978)

Max Wohlberg reminds us that the Conservative synagogue
in the United States was the place where congregational singing
of sections of the liturgy had achieved its greatest popularity. There
it was welcomed and flourished and was, for decades, a distinctive
aspect of the Conservative worship service." But, again, these tunes
were generally of good musical caliber and were seldom distracting
in the general fabric of the service. Wohlberg explained that "a
survey of congregational tunes 35 years ago showed heterogeneous
sources such as: Yiddish folk influence, dance patterns, pseudo-
Oriental and Yemenite melodies, etc.; current practice seems to
dictate a blend of American Yeshivah and recent winning songs of
the Israel Hassidic Folk Festival."

Relative to "legitimate" hassidic tunes and the commercial
variety, he goes on to further explain that "the legitimate hassidic
tune is in a category of its own and is not subject to critical musical
analysis. The qualities of pious fervor and ecstatic yearning which
infects its singers, place it outside the realm of analytical considera-
tion. To introduce it into a sedate and formal service would be
to commit an esthetic blunder. Similarly, a pleasant Z'mirot tune
is not necessarily appropriate for a liturgical text." (Conservative
Judaism)

It is a commentary on the lack of background in J ewish music
by so many in the J ewish lay community and an acknowledgement
of the strong influence of recorded music in our time and society,
that convinces so many that Hassidic Song Festival favorites are
indicative of the mode of prayer current in Israel and therefore
appropriate for synagogue use in the United States, when, in fact,
nothing could be further from the truth.

When Wohlberg points to the forward of Lewandowski's "Kol
Rino Usefila" of 1871 he shows us two remarkable statements by
Lewandowski. Remarkable in the sense that, to this writer at least,

they encapsulate the two-pronged nexus of congregational apathy
and uninvolvement in our own time.

Lewandowski's statement, written over 100 years ago, is an
indictment of synagogue practices in his own time and could very
well have been included in this year's report of congregational
worship practices. He said, in 1871, "ungifted and unmusical indi-
viduals have introduced trivial tunes" into the worship service and
also that congregations "who have previously shouted, have been,
since the introduction of choirs, condemned to silence."

Translated into current terms, this writer believes that:

1. By not providing sufficiently good congregational tunes
and affording worshippers an opportunity to sing them
we have helped prepare the soil for an implantation of
tunes whose worth is negligible.

2. By misusing professional choirs and organs we have helped
to subdue congregations that had the capacity to daven
and have not yet found ways to combine the best aspects
of both modes of worship, that is choir/organ and daven-
nen.

Regarding the long standing practice of the bravura, solo
recitative or recitative with choir, I respectfully suggest that for
most situations this is no longer a successful prayer vehicle. The
very few hazzanim really capable of stirring the soul with magnificent
coloratura and exceptional voices still continue to do so, and should
continue. Unfortunately, all hazzanim are not equally capable and
some are still unaware of it. We must face the challenge of our
time. The congregation for whom our hazzanic forebearers chanted
no longer exist. The congregations in which we function require
a considered and thoughtful approach. Each situation is different
and solutions to the problems of a balanced service must be faced
intelligently and with compassion. Continuing in the style of a
bygone era is not appropriate for today unless we are again able
to reeducate congregants and elicit a response from them. It is
our problem and our confrontation.

There was a time when it would have been unthinkable that
the hazzan would be asked to abdicate or subordinate his main
function, that of sh'liah tzibbur. A hazzan was retained for his
interpretive skills, devotion to the concept of t'fillah and ability to
inspire the kahal. We all know that even vocal ability was not a
prime consideration. Recently, congregations and a newer generation

of rabbis prompted by many pressures wish the B'ney Mitzvah to
lead large portions, if not complete services on "their" day.

The question which seems most relevant is one of "intent".
Is the Bar Mitzvah a ceremony which is part of the larger worship
service, as it should be? Or is it a "show" in every sense of the
word? Is the entire Shabbat service more a vehicle for child, family
and friends, rather than a worship service for congregation and
community ?

Reading of Torah and Haftorah with thoughtful English or
Hebrew introductions to those sections are certainly appropriate for
the Bar/ Bat Mitzvah. Chanting the service is not! Do we as
hazzanim offer alternatives to the showy display of pulpit ability
requested of many youngsters? Do we respond that weekday minha-
maariv, Sunday morning shaharit or Shabbat afternoon minha and
havdalah led by the youngster would serve him and Judaism better
than functioning in place of the Cantor at Shabbat services? Why
is leading the service on Shabbat not a "show"? Should the child
give the sermon in place of an inspirational discourse by the Rabbi
whose function in Israel is that of teacher and preacher? Would
the service actually benefit by such a substitution? The answer
is no!

A congregational youth service which can be led weekly by
young people qualified to lead, taught by the hazzan, which par-
alleled the main sanctuary service, would certainly provide the
future Bar/ Bat Mitzvah with the tools and understanding to lead
future services, at some other time, when the taint of "show biz"
would not be an adjunct to what is basically a religious experience,
intended for the whole congregation, not only for those celebrating
a simcha.

But again, who will speak out? Who is able to confront gently
and in the spirit of redemptive progress? Who will relegate self-
interest to a secondary role and speak out for the betterment of
the synagogue and American Jewry? Who will be unafraid of
difficulties and change 'because they speak from knowledge, secure
in their craft and art, as guardians of tradition and instigators of
change? It is our confrontation. How shall be respond?

The evolved patterns on which this paper is based were antici-
pated in years past. They are no longer projectory. They are here
and now. We must work with them to the betterment of our calling
and heritage. We must raise our heads and face the issues clearly,

20

sensitive to all aspects of the problems, with compassion for the
efforts of others and a desire to add our expertise to decisions made
on high levels. We have an obligation to help in the holding of
Jewish consciousness in the present as well as future generation.
Each hazzan must look upon himself as though he were personally
responsible for the continuation of hazzanut as a profession as
those who "have a special, distinct and unique, tradition-honored
role to play in J ewish life" (Rosenbaum — C.A. Proceedings, 1978).

What are some of the practicum that we might employ?

The hazzan should have a regular column in the synagogue
publication. He should speak out in areas of concern. The column
should be an educational tool.

The hazzan should encourage publicity on a national scale
which will be an extension of the synagogue bulletin. To create
an awareness of the special problems inherent in worship and in
J ewish music.

The hazzan should be involved in congregational and com-
munal life as a Jewish professional.

The hazzan should be the musical resource for the congrega-
tional school, for congregational music and t'fillah classes, for youth
services, etc. All music which might find its way into any service
in the congregational building should have direction from the
hazzan. He should not permit or encourage deviations from the
proper nusah which would not be welcome in the main service.

The hazzan might institute or supervise the teaching of Haf-
torah and Torah trop in the Religious School music class, the crea-
tion of Torah Reading Clubs and Shomrei Nusah groups.

The hazzan might direct a program of nusah hat'fillah for
adult lay leaders and create a program for learning and chanting
Torah and Haftorah for adults.

The hazzan might gather together family members qualified to
read Torah and institute a family reading program for Shabbat
minha or Rosh Hodesh Torah readings.

The hazzan should supervise the proper training of B'nai
Mitzvah so that an understanding of the system of taamey hamikrah
is insured. He should oppose and discourage the use of children
as "shi'lichey tzibbur".

The hazzan should give lectures as well as programs of J ewish
music and use those opportunities to impart legitimate Jewish
musical values.

The hazzan should help create a responsive and responding
congregation by helping to teach basic Jewish skills and Jewish
prayer responses.

The hazzan could implement the presentation of annual Zim-
riyah Festivals for the school, congregation or community which
would encourage the public presentation of music of worth.

The hazzan should teach menshlichkeit by example.

The hazzan should remind the community that 'The voice of
prayer is never silenced but speaks to men of all generations and
summons them to communion with their 'Maker. Be open to its
prayerful song. All that matters is that you hear it and respond."
(UAHC Prayerbook Shaarei T'fillah) .

22

HAZZAN David Tilman

Before I begin my formal remarks, let me begin with a slight
preface that I feel I must add, based on some of the discussions
I have had with friends since I arrived here yesterday afternoon,
and based on some of the things that Sam has stated this morning.

Let me begin by stating that I am very happy in my job. I
really am. I am very happy in my job. I enjoy what I do very
much. I think I am in touch with my congregation's needs and I
think that I respond to the needs of my congregation. I am faced
with the same problems and confrontations that all of you are
faced with. Yet, somehow I manage to cope and come out the
better man for it. Let me state for the record that I daven every
Friday night and Shabbat morning, most of the time with organ
and choir, ten months of the year. I am a fervent believer in nusah
hatefillah. I feel that every day I accomplish something worthwhile,
that I've touched somebody or that I have learned something new
for myself. I do many things every day of which shlihut is a major
part, but only one component of many. I feel that everything else
that I do contributes ultimately to the success or the failure of my
own shlihut.

As only Sam has a way of characterizing, in a very few words
what sometimes takes me many, many weeks to think of, when he
said in the very beginning of his speech: 'The hazzan has the
mandate to lead his congregation both to prayer (and I underline
that three times), and in prayer (and I also underline that preposi-
tion three times), because I believe that what I do in leading
people to prayer is as important as leading them in prayer.

Ultimately, I consider myself an educator of Jewish values
using the means of musical expression and J ewish musical resources
as my tool, and I've said that before from this podium.

My presentation this morning is really a description, a very
personal description, of how I confront the problems facing all of
us. How I solve some of these problems, and how I fail to solve
others of them. Please accept what I now have to say in that light.

Allow me to begin my formal remarks, this morning, by relating
to you two seemingly unconnected but relevant subjects to my
presentation to you.

About a month ago there appeared in the NEW YORK TIMES
science pages, a report on research done by biochemists in the area

23

of tranquilizers and pain killers. The paper reported that scientists
had discovered that the body produces its own natural tranquilizers
and pain killers in certain situations. What is more interesting, and
what immediately grabbed my own attention, was the discovery of
certain receptors (and I'll come back to that word over and over
again), in the brain for these naturally produced substances. As
soon as these natural drugs were released into the bloodstream,
they went directly to the receptive nerves in the brain and attached
themselves at that point. Each substance had its own specific
receptor-nerve package in the brain. End of first item.

Second item: About three weeks ago, my own synagogue, Beth
Sholom Congregation, brought Mr. Velvel Pasternack to our con-
gregation to discuss what he does before the Men's Club. Velvel
described, and those of you who have heard him know that he is
an incredibly valuable person as well as an incredibly capable
stand-up comic, he described, in very humorous fashion, his research
into all the various Hassidic sects that he has studied. I was
specifically caught up with what he had to say with regard to a
specific tune of the Bratslaver Hasidim. He tried to track down,
during his year in Israel, the source of one specific nigun, which
had been identified to him as a holy Bratslaver nigun sung by the
Rebbe for generations, but which he knew, after he heard it, to
be nothing more than a Greek-Arab dance called the Miserlou.

True story. You should hear him tell it. His field work
ultimately led him to a farbrengin in S'fat, on the occasion of the
Yahrzeit of Moshe Rabeinu. There it was that he discovered how
the Bratslaver sing this particular tune with such gusto and hishta-
phut hanefesh. It seems that prior to 1948, the Druze Arabs also
used to gather in S'fat on exactly the same day, at the same time
as the Bratslaver Hassidim. They would sing this Miserlou tune,
\r\Ahaua Rabah mode. Slowly the Hassidim learned it, applied to
it various Bratslaver syllabification, a variation of ya-be-bai, what-
ever, and forgot its origin. They had totally assimilated it by 1948
when the Druze Arabs stopped coming to S'fat. Now the Bratslaver
Hassidim claim it as their very own, and imbue it with all the
sanctity and holiness of much earlier and more authentic nigunim.
End of second item.

My friends, our profession is indeed changing because, simply,
the needs of our communities are changing. I have realized that I
must change to fill these needs or I will become, at best, irrelevant
and at worst, an unneeded item on my congregation's budget.

24

In 20th century America, and again Sam said it so well, in
this age of extreme narcissism, we have elevated the highest form
of narcissism to the artists in our time. We worship the superstar
musician, we worship the superstar painter and we glorify him
as he shows us the perfection of his chosen field of specialization.
I am afraid that many of us express tremendous resentment when
we don't receive similar glorification from our own congregations.

For too long we have been totally consumed with the art of
transmitting our sacred heritage without doing anything or very
little, to create the receptors- and I refer back to the word I
used before-in the hearts and minds of the Jewish community
for what it is that we are trying to transmit. It is possible that
we must share part of the blame for our own frustrations and the
current deterioration of our craft, as Sam so aptly described to
us. 1 think so.

If rabbis (who also must share the guilt of creating a mirror
Jewish community which no longer really davens) wait and see
tha we are not really reaching our people, do you blame them for
pushing us into all kinds of short-term solutions to our all-common
problems. This is due, as I said before, to the fact that we have
done really very little to create these receptors for the messages
and art forms that we are trying to transmit. You can't transmit
anything unless you have a receiver to receive it.

Allow me to state a very highly controversial position, and I
want you to listen to it very carefully before you jump down my
throat. There is nothing inherently sacred about the various com-
binations of notes that make up our modes or Misinai tunes; nothing
inherent, no inherent kedusha in putting one note next to another.
These tunes and modes which we so assiduously strive to protect
and preserve are in themselves no more sacred than a besamim box,
a candlestick or a hallah cover. To take this analogy one step
further, we cannot content ourselves with being musical jewelers —
silversmith who produces a magnificent yad, breastplate, rimonim
or kiddush cup does absolutely nothing to insure that his work will
be used properly. He does nothing to teach the values inherent in
their use. He merely produces a beautiful object and product and
lets someone else cultivate an appreciation for their beauty and
teach their function.

We cannot afford such a luxury. We can no longer strive to
produce the most beautiful music possible without worrying about

25

cultivating the values and tastes of our congregants at their most
elementary, and I underline the word elementary, level of their
knowledge. Our Executive Vice President said this in 1970. (In
preparation for this talk I want you to know that I re-read about
ten reports of the Executive Vice President) and I quote from his
1970 report: "We have been content to sing, to pray, to chant, to
teach on demand and then fade into the background. Too many
of us care more about the sounds of our prayers than their rele-
vance or meaning." And I might add my own insertion, the ability
and sensitivity to appreciate them. We are more intent on pleasing
the ear of the worshipper than on the immeasurably more difficult
task of challenging the mind.

I began with a discussion of brain receptors. If it is indeed
true that Hakadosh Baruch Hu, in His infinite wisdom, designed
the human brain with specific nerve receptors for pain killers and
tranquilizers, I doubt very much if in addition, He placed in the
Ashkenazic Jewish brain a specific compartment which automatic-
ally, from the moment of birth, imparts the ability to recognize
nusah I'hol from nusah /' Shabbat. I would question the wisdom
in 1979 of the statement mentioned by Sam of Adolph Katcho in
1947 that there remains a glimnier in the heart of the most dedi-
cated Reform Jew. I don't think that that glimmer exists auto-
matically anymore. We must create and implant these receptors
by becoming the best educators we can be. In the role of one we
are insuring our positions as pulpit artists and interpreters of tefillah
because we are creating an intelligent audience in the short term;
and what is more important, we will be making Jews and thereby
contributing to the survival of our people.

I come now to Pasternack's story of the Bratslaver Hassidim
and I find in this story a paradigm from much of our Jewish
musical history. I learned in school that our tunes, the holy
MiSinai tunes which we all hold up with such tremendous signifi-
cance are admittedly of secular origin, most of them. They have
acquired sanctity by use and re-use over a period of time and eventu-
ally their original sources are long forgotten.

Allow me to state the converse of my position that I stated
above. Just as there is nothing inherently sacred about the music
we call our traditional Jewish music resources, let me reiterate
that these acquire sanctity through their use to the degree of which
they may be used. There is nothing inherently profane about con-

26

temporary tunes written to sacred texts since 1967. Can you imagine
the negative effect we must, have on our own people who all run to
buy Israeli and Hassidic records, genuine or otherwise, when we
issue a blanket condemnation, and don't even make an attempt
to discriminate between what is good and what is bad. What does
indeed fit into the shtimung of tefillah, to use Sam's words, and
what doesn't. What may be tastefui, what may be used in a school
setting and what may not be used in tefillah, and what may be,
indeed, secular or worse, ill suited to convey these sacred texts.
After we make this blanket condemnation of music that our people
have, indeed, been moved by. And in Philadelphia it is a phenome-
non that the Hassidic Festival, for better or worse, comes to Valley
Forge every December and sells 6,000 tickets at between $10-$25 a
ticket. They must be doing something to touch some souls. We
may then be frustrated by the seeming lack of appreciation for
our talents after we make this blanket condemnation.

I am not saying to you, and far be it for you to think that
I fill my own services with Hassidic Festival tunes, but I am saying
that you must, as educators, find some way to exploit the fact
that our people, adults and children, have been genuinely touched
by the revival of music set to sacred texts. If you keep an open
world for a period of time, the good will, indeed, be separated
from the bad. The cream will rise to the surface. But don't reject
all of this material in a blanket overall fashion, a priori. I feel that
we are ultimately hurting ourselves. I am struck by positions
taken by two non-Jewish musicians during the 20th century.

This past summer I recently completed a biography of Pablo
Casals, one of the great musicians of the 20th century. It is an
incredible book, written by a man whose name is Kirk. This book
describes a study of tremendous personal self-discipline over a
life-span of 96 years. Yet Casals, the great Casals, considered his
music making to be of no value in itself, unless he used it to make
a political and moral statement. You may, or may not know that
Casals after 1945 refused to play solo recitals anymore, as a protest
against world acquiescence to the regime of Francisco Franco. I
was struck, as I read this biography- you may remember that
around last May or June the winner of the Tchaikovsky competition,
the cellist, was a Jewish fellow from Pittsburgh, I believe, who
exactly at the time of the Shcharansky trials, proceeded to play
whatever he was playing, in Moscow. I found this to be an absolute
complete contradiction and negation of everything that Casals
stood for.

27

Toward the end of his life Casals wrote a cantata on behalf
of world peace. He used his music and his performance to teach
values. He strove to become the best cellist in the world, and
succeeded and then used his music-making to teach values. Can
we do any less? In Sam's address of 1968 (as I said, I have become
an authority on Sam's addresses), he quoted Robert Shaw, the
great American choral conductor and presently the conductor of
the Atlanta Symphony, and Robert Shaw said (in a church publi-
cation) nothing but the best is good enough. "If one comes to me
(Robert Shaw), saying one man's St. Matthew Passion may he
another's Old Rugged Cross, then I may only reply that that is
unfortunately his loss for there can be little doubt about which
music ascribes to Him the greater glory."

"It is good to have 5,000 young people chanting softly and
tenderly, 'Jesus Is Calling,' in Madison Square Garden, but if
they could only have heard the St. Matthew Passion, they would
have indeed have had a religious experience of far greater vigor
and enrichment."

I don't know if I agree with Robert Shaw any more. I don't
think our people are adequately prepared for the hazzanic equiva-
lent of the St. 'Matthew Passion. Let me state for the record that
I love the St. Matthew Passion. I spent four years and thousands
of dollars learning and cultivating an appreciation of that kind of
music. But I don't know that if at an earlier point in my life the
St. Matthew Passion may have been anything more than a lot of
noise. We are dealing with a Jewish community which needs, I
think, simple, basic hymns, such as the Old Rugged Cross, which
Robert Shaw referred to.

Here I come to the exact same conclusion that Sam came to.
In the words of a contemporary commercial, we have to get back
to basics. The simple hymns will lead to a cultivation of and an
appreciation of the higher forms which has been lost by today's
J ews. How can we daven for J ews who don't know how to daven?
They must learn how to dauen before we can sing authentic haz-
zanut for them. For this complicated hazzanut to have any lasting
effect beyond that of an esthetically pleasing performance.

I believe our panel discussion is entitled '"Surviving Future
Shock" and I may conclude in the following way: I think I'll make it
into the 80's, the 90's and, I hope, God willing, should give me
strength into the next century because, I understand my role as an

28

educator of Jewish values, using Jewish musical resources as my
tools: because, I try to create receptors, receivers among both chil-
dren and adults for that which I am trying to transmit; because I
constantly try to make myself a, better professional so that I may
become a better educator of Jewish values; because, ultimately, I
know what my goal is and my goal is to make J ews. This goal is
not at odds with the goal of making beautiful music. Far from it.
By improving the means of my teaching, by increasing my repertoire,
by improving my voice, by increasing my musical knowledge I will
ultimately make more and better Jews of the people with whom
I come into close proximity.

These are the principals by which I govern my own professional
life. These are the guidelines I try to impart to my students at
the Cantors Institute and I hope that some of you share these
guidelines with me.

DR. Michael ISAACSON

In the J une 1979 edition of the J ournal of Synagogue Music,
Hazzan Samuel Rosenbaum published an article entitled: "Surviv-
ing Future Shock"; originally a talk given to the 32nd Annual Meet-
ing of the Cantors Assembly. The thesis, as I understood it, was
that in the name of survival Hazzanim should revert to a tenaciously
classic posture thereby tabling the demands of current cultural trends
and spiritual movements.

"So long as hazzanim remain in place and are considered
klei kodesh, and do have a part in leading in prayer then
there is still the hope and the possibility of one day re-
turning 'hazzanut' to its proper place. We have seen greater
miracles come to pass. We must not be discouraged."

Well I must say after reading these concluding lines I was deeply
discouraged. Discouraged not only because an admired, progressive
leader is now assuming an old guard posture, but more significantly
because the larger concept of future shock and the lessons it sug-
gests are being misunderstood and unheeded.

Future shock is the phenomenon experienced when social and
cultural movements happen so quickly that we, at our existing rate
of change and adaptability, fail to find equilibrium. By the time
we move ahead we find ourselves further behind. It seems that just
when one gets a "handle" on some problem the winds of change
sweep it from one's grasp and transform it by contact with cross
currents into a dilemma of even larger dimensions. This perplexity
is indeed one of the critical issues of our lives today. It affects not
only hazzanim but every productive, thinking individual in our
society.

Toffler suggests that, at best, all one can do is keep up with
the movement — it is the rare personality who moves ahead of it.
But how does one keep up — by remaining in place? Let me offer
an analogy:

Two automobiles approach a highway heavy with traffic. The
first driver slows down, finds a safe entrance but maintains his idle
speed upon entering the traffic flow. The second driver slows down,
finds a safe entrance, upon entering the flow, resumes moderate
speed and then in the name of highway safety accelerates to
cruising speed. Who is the safer, better driver? The first driver

30

by decreasing and maintaining a slower speed is not only endanger-
ing himself, but, because he is inextricably part of the larger traffic
situation, is risking the safety and the destination goals of all the
other drivers as well.

It is the same with future shock survival. If we merely maintain
existing speed we fall behind — but if we "remain in place" the
undercurrent consumes us.

I was amused recently to read a bit of graffiti that asked "what-
ever happened to nostalgia?" The answer to the handwriting on
the wall is, of course, it never existed. The good old days were
never that good or rosey — they were just old. The solution to
problems then are not necessarily the solutions now. The longing
for their return is not only a counterproductive exercise but it is one
that invites future failure as well.

What then is a realistic, productive strategy for a hazzan
grappling with future shock?

I believe the only way that a hazzan can survive is to demon-
strate to his congregation that his leadership is vital and absolutely
necessary for a fulfilling, contemporary, synagogue experience. The
key word is contemporary. He is or should be a 'sh'liah tsibur' —
a representative and a messenger not only of the people but to the
people. If he does not maintain speed and accelerate with other
leading forces and movements of the time, how can he be sensitive
to his people's longings and spiritual needs which stem directly from
these times?

If the old ways of being a respected hazzan are being challenged
find new ways of challenging the imagination of the congregation.
If you are feeling intimidated or excluded by others on the pulpit
engage them in a joint, creative project that will elevate everyone.
Accelerate!

Look at the media explosion around you. The potential for
varied, alternative forms of meaningful communication has never
been so great. Today you have the opportunity of personally leading
each member of your congregation in prayer, meditation and song
right in the intimacy of their own home. Do not discount the tre-
mendously affecting programs of your creation which can be com-
cunicated via video-discs, casettes, records, tapes and home com-
puters. Any use of media is worthy if it carries your message and
aids in your holy task.

31

If you still resist the potential of electronic Judaism (an idea
that will outlive us all) then speed up your involvement in "live"
musical activities. Jewish musical weekend retreats, more perfor-
mances of Jewish works by local symphonies, increased chamber
music concerts at the synagogue, additional use of instruments at
services for a sense of fresh color, sponsorship of choral festivals of
Jewish music at the local university. Resume voice lessons and
coaching, take courses in 20th century styles and practices, learn
new works regularly — seek out the indications of change and
wrestle with them until dawn.

Not for you? Perhaps for someone else? Avot is there to remind
us: If not you, who will? And if not now when?

Surviving future shock is not to be found in the ways of the
ostrich. Nor is the successful strategy new and exotic — when in
doubt "Choose Life!" Minister to your congregation of today in all
the vernaculars of today. Sustain the value of the past but do not
long for its return.

Look ahead, accelerate your devotion to your calling, speed up
the innovations in your programming. State by your actions that
the hazzan is not only necessary but continues to be glorious in
what he offers the congregation.

The future will be behind you in an instant. Keep up with
it and you might survive. Resist it by sedentariness and you will
surely perish.

Do not look back. Seize the moment before its decay. Waiting
for miracles is not half as exhilarating as making them happen.

32

TWO SABBATH EVE PRAYERS

NEW TRANSLATIONS AND COMMENTARY

Elliot B. Gertel

HA-MA'ARIV ARAVIM
Praised be Thou, Who in speaking,
Bids twilight to unfurl the evening;
Opening, in wisdom, supernal partitions;
Changing times and varying seasons.
Thou appointest stars to their stations,
According to Thine inscrutable reasons.
Thou createst day and night,
Rolling light before dark,
And dark before the light.
Because Thy Name is Lord of Hosts,
Thou keepest day and night divided;
As one is moved, the other coasts;
Within Thy plan, their turns provided.
Eternal Guide of constant nature,
Reign over us, though we waver.
Praised be Thou, Devine Being,
Who bringest forth the evening.

Man's relationship to nature has been twofold. Since his eyes
first reflected the sunlight and beheld the wonders of the world,
man has been mesmerized by the mysteries of the universe. Civiliza-
tions treasured, glorified and worshipped many of the natural ele-
ments. Yet it was the revelation of Israel alone that man, the uni-
verse, and all the natural courses were an allusion, indicating a
Creating Unity. Thus, Judaism hallowed nature, holding it to be
not the ideal beauty, but a mirror of the crafts of the Holy Bestower
of beauty. The miracle of sunset, as preserved in the splendor of
this simple evening prayer, is testimony to the word of God which
orders nature with the sanctity of beauty, and guides human life
with the beauty of sanctity. Indeed, the Bible calls upon nature
to bear witness to God's faithfulness in Covenant, and to the degree
of Israel's constancy in fulfilling her side of the bargain.' Nature,

1 See, for example, Deut. 4: 26; 30: 19; 31:8; and J ob 16: 19.

Elliot B. Gertel is a student at the Rabbinical School of the Jewish
Theological Seminary of America who has contributed to a number of J udaica
periodicals.

which is ever faithful to the word of God, is invoked to scrutinize
man, who is capable of wanton infidelity.

Yet man has also been frightened by nature — vexed by its
violence, persecuted by its pestilence, chastized by its creatures, and
damaged by its dangers. With all our cumulative investigation of
the cycles of nature, we find ourselves embarrassingly unsure of the
world in which we live. We are still inclined to cry with Adam, as
the Sages envisioned his experience of the first sunset: "Oi li, woe
is me! The world is returning to void and nothingness!"* We do
not always sense the faithfulness of the Almighty in the cycles of
nature. The appearances of nature can be deceitful to those not
fully aware of the changes and hazards of phenomena. Furthermore,
many do not find beauty in the odorous gases and indecorous giz-
zards which underlie all natural phenomena. As Schleirermacher
observed :

. . . that joy in Nature, which so many extol, is . . .
little truly religious. ... What is it that they admire?
Rear the plant in a dark cellar, and, if you are successful,
you can rob it of all these beauties, without in the least
degree altering its nature. Suppose the vapour above us
somewhat differently disposed; instead of that splendour,
you would have before your eyes one unpleasant grayness,
and yet what you are contemplating would be essentially
the same. . . . They are in a perplexity between appear-
ance and reality, and what is so doubtful cannot be a re-
ligious stimulus, and can call forth no genuine feeling.3

According to J ewish teaching, man can learn to experience God
because of this very ambivalence toward nature. The ancient Is-
raelites were not hypnotized by the appearances of nature, for they
were more detached from them than other peoples. Yet this did not
prevent the J ew from rejoicing in nature as a fellow creature of
God.4 The Biblical writers challenge us to employ our senses to
experience the world of nature, and, in so doing, to realize that we
do not experience our salvation in nature, but our need for a God
of salvation, Who somehow exalts us by releasing at least a part of
our being from being fettered by nature's cycles of growth and

2 J er. Avodah Zarah 39c.

30n Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers, tr. Rudolf Otto (N.Y.:
Harper and Row, 1958). pp. 65-6.

4 See Owen Barfield, Saving the Appearances: A Study in Idolatry (N.Y.:
Harcourt, Brace, 1965?), p. 108.

34

decay. The Psalmist invites us to reflect on our imminent death,
which, in the world of nature, will reduce us to particles of dust
(Psalm 90). That is why Isaiah urges us to discover, beyond nature's
experiences, the Presence of a Saving God:

Lift up your eyes on high,

And see: Who has created these?

He Who brings out their hosts by number:

He calls them by name,

By the greatness of H is might.

Since His power is abiding,

Not one fails. (Isaiah 40:26)

To conclude that human salvation does not rest with nature is
not necessarily to affirm God. Nor should it mean the repudiation
of the natural world as God-forsaken. Rather, man should rely upon
his experience of the insufficiency of a life in nature in order to be
reconciled with nature. Isaiah insists that only one Way of recon-
cilation can be found: the affirmation of the God beyond nature.
Such affirmation brings joy because it reconciles man with nature
by affirming life's hope and meaningful ness as the work of God:

For Thou, Lord, hast made me glad through
Thy work;

I will exult in the work of Thy hands.5
(Psalm 92:5)

Said the Baal Shem Tov: "If the vision of a beautiful woman
comes suddenly before a man's eyes, or if he perceives any other
fair and lovely thing, he should instantly ask himself: Whence
comes this beauty except from the Divine artistry that fills the
world? Consequently, the origin of this beauty is Divine, and why
should I be attracted only by a part? Better for me to be drawn
after the All, the source of every partial beauty!' If a man tastes
something good and sweet, let the taster perceive that it is from the
heavenly sweetness that the sweet quality is derived. Such percep
tion of beauty then is an experience of the Holy One, praised be He!"
So, too, the Rabbis of the Talmud created special prayers for all
occasions — upon sighting a rainbow or lightning, upon meeting a
king or president or sage — so that we may acknowledge at any

5 See David S. Shapiro, "The Rationalism of Ancient J ewish Thought,"
in A Treasury of Tradition, ed. Lamm and Wurzburger (N.Y.: Hebrew Pub-
lishing Company, 1967).

and every opportunity that the marvel of the human mind and the
majesty of nature allude to His wisdom.6

In ages when the human body and its achievements were glori-
fied as the supreme beauties, when the courses of the stars were
consulted for absolute guidance, the J ew has shared the Baal Shem
Tov's perception. On the Sabbath, the pious J ew would not so much
as tear a leaf from a tree, or disturb the pollen of a flower, thus
alluding in deed to Divine Kingship over nature. It is only when
nature becomes an instrument of worship, rather than an object
of adulation or even a detriment to praise, that the Kingship of the
Most Holy can be felt in an unredeemed world.

HASHKIVENU
Grant us, Lord, repose without strife;
Raise us again, our King, to life!
Spread over us a peaceful awning,
With good counsel Thy people guiding.
Spare us for Thy reputation!
Protect us with Thy Presence:
Bar from us enemy, pestilence;
Remove sword, famine — all tribulation,
And from all sides obstruct temptation.
Beneath Thy wings, grant us shelter,
For Thou art Guardian and Deliverer;
Thou art gracious and merciful King,
Who guides our going out and coming.
To Thee, Lord God, we offer praise!
Thy peaceful awning, kindly raise
Over Thy people, Israel, and J erusalem.

Like a canopy of downy raiment, like the courts of a holy
tabernacle, like the wings of the Sabbath Bride engulfing Israel
within the refuge of the Covenant renewed, does the Seventh Day
overtake us, stirring within us the regeneration for which we yearn
during the week.

Through the pathway of halachah, especially through the Sab-
bath laws, the Divine promises to embrace us. In the Hashkivenu
prayer, we reciprocate by expressing our dependence upon God.
Thus, we urge Him to attune our hearts to life in the sacred dwelling

6 See Mishnah Berachot9: 1-3.

of Sabbath. We beseech Him to remove all plagues, including the
detriment of the evil inclination.

We implore God to remove temptation "from before us and from
behind us." Said the hasidic master, Reb Pinchas of Koretz: "Satan
is inconsistent. He persuades a man to go to the synagogue on a
cold morning; yet when one does go, Satan follows him into it." So
continues the inner battle of man, where deeds and intentions strug-
gle for purification. Reb Pinchas was wont to remark: "I am con-
stantly in fear, lest I become too 'wise' to remain pious."

Although criticized as child-like and unspiritual, prayers for
protection against temptation and danger express the healthy uncer-
tainty of any sincere soul who perceives that we shall not be able
to serve God unless He fulfills our basic needs, and that we, no more
than Job, are unable to withstand His cruler tests. We find our-
selves echoing J acob's vow: "If God will be with me, and will keep
me on this way that I am going, and will give me bread to eat, and
clothes to wear, and I arrive once more, in peace, to my father's
house — then shall the Lord be my God." (Genesis 28:21-22)

In petitioning God, in "making demands" upon Him, we exer-
cise, as it were, the righteous indignation that every human being
must possess: the will to be treated justly. Yet in recalling before
Whom we stand, we realize that we who demand justice are limited
in our understanding of its cosmic ramifications.' While hoping that
he will aid us, we understand that He will not reverse nature for
any one of us, for that could possibly prove unjust to others. The
Rabbis wisely warn against vain prayers such as the father-to-be
who begs for a son, or the concerned relative who, upon hearing
wailing, prays that the cries do not come from his own household. 2
One cannot pray that something be undone once it has already
occurred!

It is significant, too, that petitions in the J ewish Liturgy are
generally in the first person plural. The Rabbis teach that the pur-
pose of all prayer is to seek mercy (Z'uakkesh rachamim) from God. 3
They add that it is not only our duty to seek mercy for ourselves,
but for all Israel and for all mankind. "Rabba benChinena said in
the name of Rab: "If one is in a position to pray on behalf of his

1 On the concept of mishpat (justice) in the Bible, see Eliezer Berkovits,
Man and God (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1969), p. 251.

2 See Mishnah Berachot 4b.

3 B. Berachot 34b.

37

fellow and does not do so, he is called a sinner, as it is said (I
Samuel 12: 23) : 'As for me, far be it from me that I should sin
against the Lord in ceasing to pray for you.' "4

The paradox of petitionary prayer is that it entails self-assertion
without selfishness. It makes the individual aware of the self as he
transcends it by focusing upon what Max Kadushin describes as
the "larger self." 5 When we pray for the removal of every pestilence
and acknowledge God as He Who can remove all illness, pestilence,
famine and strife, we find ourselves approaching Him as members
of the human species which is individually and collectively subject
to such disasters. 6

In petitionary prayer, we affirm that God is the sole Arbiter
between what constitutes a "miracle" and what can be regarded as
"natural law." Science penetrates nature, but not the Divine Nature.
The first fruit of human inquiry is a ripened appreciation of the
Divine order.

Jacob declared that he would gladly serve God, if only He would
provide the opportunity. So, too, we urge God to remove all barriers
to Sabbath observance. We pray that after we have experienced
and savored the Sabbath — after we have experienced positively
Judaism and its teaching — we do not harden our hearts and minds
to the splendor and truth found therein. The person who vigilantly
guards against temptation does not necessarily suffer from a neurosis
of fear, as long as his watchfulness is directed toward preserving
that which consistency elevates the quality of life. Such vigilance
must derive from the realization that one "fears that which is de-
serving of fear — an indication of spiritual perfection and health
on his part.' Indeed, "Judaism as a metaphysical system is opti-
mistic, yet it realizes the tragic character of human existence. On
the existential level, it fosters sobriety and shifts the locus of anxie-
ties to the areas that count — concern for the state of one's soul
and one's relationship to God."8 Jewish teaching does not find it

4 B. Berachot 12b.

s Kadushin, Worship and Ethics: A Study in Habbinic Judaism (N.Y.:
Bloch, 1963), pp. 108 f.

6 See ibid., p. 109.

7 J oseph Albo, Sefer Ha-lkarim (Phil.: J ewish Publication Society, 1930).
vol. Ill, p. 307.

s Shubert Spero, "Is Judaism an Optimistic Religion," in Treasury of
Tradition, ed. Lamm and Wurzburger (N.Y.: Hebrew Publishing Company,
1967), pp. 214-15. See, also, Irving Kristol, "God and the Psychoanalysts," in
Arthur A. Cohen, ed., Arguments and Doctrines (Phil.: Jewish Publication
Society, 1970). pp. 347-67.

38

possible or even desirable for people to live without anxiety. One
might well observe that man attains true humanity through sancti-
fied anxieties. "Petitionary prayers . . . play an educational role,"
observes Rabbi Ben Zion Bokser. "They help us to understand more
clearly what our true needs really are. They teach us to pray not
for the trivial things we often miss and long for, but for the things
which are of enduring value, for wisdom, for nearness to God, for
cleansing from sin, for redemption from oppresion, for health, for
sustenance, for peace, for the vindication of the righteous, for Jewish
survival in the Holy Land."9

Through the Hashkivenu, the petitionary prayer par excellence,
we approach the Almightly with thoughts similar to those expressed
by the saintly eleventh-century moralist, Rabbi Bachya ibn Pakudah:

Thou knowest, Lord, what is for my good. When I recite
my wants, it is not to remind Thee of them, but only that
I may better understand how great is my dependence upon
Thee. If, then, I ask Thee for things which do not make
for my well-being, it is because I am ignorant. Thy choice
is better than mine and I submit myself to Thy decrees
and to Thy supreme direction.

9B.Z. Bokser, The Prayer Book: Weekday, Sabbath and Festival (N.Y.:
Hebrew Publishing Co., 1957), p. ix.

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC

"HEBREW SONGS FOR ALL SEASONS," edited, designed and
produced by Susan Claire Searles, with translation assist-
ance by Dr. Avraham Abba Glicksberg, Toledo Board of
Jewish Education; Vol. 1, 63 pp; Vol. 2, 73 pp.

The recent publication of "Hebrew Songs for all Seasons" Vol-
umes I and II by the Toledo Board of Jewish Education is an
exceptional service to every congregation and school in the country.
Kudos to Susan Claire Searles and to all those who made its publi-
cation possible. Also, a Yaasher Koah to Dr. Avraham Abba Glicks-
berg for his translations.

Both volumes offer a well-balanced and carefully selected group-
ing of songs consisting of: Holiday Songs, Love Songs, Songs of
Israel, Shabbat Songs. A quick glance at the contents of each volume
will confirm the excellence of song selection. Each song is carefully
chorded for guitar accompaniment and-in spite of the translitera-
tion, Hebrew and literal Hebrew translation — is clearly and effec-
tively notated.

Indeed, it is precisely the integrated translation, especially
helpful to those with little or no knowledge of Hebrew, that makes
these volumes an outstanding teaching tool. These songs, when used
with an overhead projector, can be a most effective way of teaching
Hebrew since each word is isolated along with its meaning. The
classroom teacher, not to mention the music instructor or leader, will
find it an excellent resource.

Ms. Searles has included in these collections of songs, a number
of her own settings, among them the "Elu D'varim" from the Shahrit
service (taken from the Mishnah.) This setting, unlike the cantorial
setting by Rappaport, is quite simple but effective for J unior Choir
or classroom use.

Again, a "Yaasher Koah" to Ms. Searles and company!

David Politzer

David Politzer is the Director of the Department of Music Education of
the Board of J ewish Education of Metropolitan Chicago.

40

TWO HIGH HOLIDAY SETTINGS, Sydney Hodkinson, "Ash-
reinu," "The Heavens Proclaim Your Majesty," for mixed
chorus and organ, Transcontinental Music Publications
New York.

Transcontinental has recently published several new additions
to the third volume of Samuel Adler's important anthology Yamim
Noraim. For practical reasons, each work has been published indi-
vidually. This appears to be a prudent decision as it allows each
congregation to pick and choose their own taste and musical tra-
dition.

Professor Adler has encouraged many fine composers, who
have never written for the synagogue, to become involved in con-
tributing to the literature. Sydney Hodkinson, a colleague of Adler
at the Eastman School, has obliged with two settings for the New
Union Prayer Book- A shreinu - TCL 991059, from a Rosh Hash-
anah morning service, and The Heavens Proclaim Your Majesty —
TCL 991058, from the Yom Kippur afternoon service.

Ashreinu is a rhythmically athletic fifty seconds of music. For
a work that is harmonized by several model aspects of an E tonality
its cadence on a C major ninth chord (The E pedal retreats to a
mediant function) seems a bit frustrating. Additional hopes are
deferred by misaccentuations of the words ashreinu, chelkeinu and
goraleinu. If congregations are liberal with their acceptance of
poetic license this piece might be of some interest.

The Heavens Proclaim Your Majesty, while interesting on
paper, is a rather awkward aural experience. This melody (also
devoid of any high holiday motives) is meted out in alternating

4 3 3 2

bars of — and — and later — and - It is a difficult tune to

4 4 4 4

phrase and one that carries the added onus of words like "source
of speech" and "supernal realm". One wonders if some texts are
better left to be spoken.

Sydney Hodkinson's music is known for its literacy and chal-
lenge but, in these two cases, he seems to have missed opportunities
for creating successful congregational music. Worship music makes
different demands than concert works. Five specific observations
come to mind.

1. The main melodic idea should be easily absorbed by a con-
gregation.

2. Outer voices must sing texts set with correct prosody.

3. Music for particular holidays should allude to traditional
melodic motives of that holiday.

4. Compositions should be designed to allow congregations
to make musical meanings within one initial hearing.

5. Only liturgical texts fit for musical setting should be set.
"Literacy" texts should be spoken over a musical under-
scoring or left alone to recitation.

It would be interesting to read in this Journal other Synagogue
composer's guidelines for creating congregational works. Composers
of secular concert music could surely benefit from such a symposium.

Michael Isaacson

42

HASHIRIM ASHER L'YEHUDAH, an anthology of music for the
liturgy of the Sabbath Festivals, High Holidays for Hazzan,
mixed chorus with organ accompaniment, Cantors Assembly
Foundation, New York 248 pp.

The compositions in this collection represent some four decades
of creativity in liturgical music. Since 1931, Cantor Rosenbluth has
been chief cantor of Stockholms great synagogue, Mosaiska Forsam-
lingen. Born to a rabbinic family in Bavaria in 1904, he received
a yeshiva education and thereafter studied at the University of
Frankfort am Main and the Hoch-sches Konservatorium where his
curriculum included music theory, composition, conducting and
viola. While specializing in the composition of liturgical music, he
has written in a variety of other forms, including oratorios, orches-
tral works and compositions for theater and television and has been
the recipient of important awards both in Sweden and America.
Those familiar with Vinaver's "Anthology of Jewish Music" will
recall his noteworthy and effective Naarits'cho (p. 81, #20) for
cantor and choir.

As Cantor Rosenbliith states in the preface of this publication,
he sought on the one hand to "save and even strengthen the Hebraic
essence common to all types of genuine Jewish music", and on
the other, to steer a course between the Scylla of German church
music and the Charybdis of a maudlin Jewish "pop" style. In both
these endeavors he has been successful.

This "anthology of Synagogue music for the Sabbath, Festivals
and High Holy Days for Hazzan, choir [and] congregation with
organ accompanimont comprises a collection of 108 compositions
arranged in a systematic sequence.

Musically, the material is based on the West- European Ash-
kenazic liturgical tradition. With occasional exceptions (#47, Tikan-
ta Shabat, #48, Yism'chu, #74, K'dusha) the solos and recitatives
eschew the florid ornamentation of East-European chazzanuth; all
have a spontaneous lyric quality and integrate well traditional can-
til lation motives. The compositions are generally modal or minor,
but within the solo line itself there are quite frequent modal transi-
tions and modulations. Additionally, chromatic inflections in the

Dr. Leon Stein is Dean Emeritus of the School of Music, DePaul Uni-
versity. An internationally renowned composer and conductor, he is the author
of several hooks and contributor to many musical journals and periodicals.

43

accompaniment may "shade" the tonal or modal key area of the
solo melody. The Sh'mini Atzeret, p 162, is a good example of this
procedure. The range in the solos is moderate; in a few instances,
substitute pitches are provided for low or high tones.

In the organ and choral parts, early twentieth century harmonic
influences are evident in parallel (block) chord movements, shift-
ing tonalities and occasional fourth chord construction. The organ
parts are functional and altogether accompanimental. Organists
(most of whom would not otherwise be made aware of the need of
matching music and specific observances) will find useful the Sab-
bath interludes (pp. 33-36) which provide appropriate materials for
specific Sabbaths.

Except for a few compositions for choir alone, the choral writ-
ing, understandably enough, is generally of a background or sup-
portive nature. Its level of difficulty is such that, as Cantor Rosen-
bluth points out in his Preface, "the great majority of the com-
positions for choir in this volume have been regularly performed
by a choir of devoted amateurs".

An obvious exception to this "great majority" is #69, Psalm
118 (2) p 42.

No matter how devoted, without the assistance of professionals
in each section, amateurs would have great difficulty with this
setting. But this composition, the most adventurous and challenging
choral work in the collection, would be well worth doing.

The term "liturgical" is particularly appropriate to the com-
positions in this anthology, not only because of the texts, but more
importantly because this is service-oriented music in which liturgical
purpose and musical validity are ideally balanced.

The publication is in a large book format, ll 1 ^ X 8^4 inches
in size with hard covers. While the music is not engraved it is
clearly printed from good manuscript, and in these times when such
matters are not to be taken for granted, printed on excellent heavy
stock paper. All in all, this collection is an important contribution
to contemporary hazzanut and synagogue music. The Cantors
Assembly Foundation is to be commended for having made possible
its publication.

Leon Stein

"PSALM 23," for solo voice with piano accompaniment, by Michael
Isaacson; Transcontinental Music Publications, New York.

Every cantor has a favorite setting of Psalm 23. It is the
melody we use for funerals or Yizkor services; or it is the special
setting that we prepare only for the most important, "state" occa-
sions. Being no exception to this rule, it was with some skepticism
that I picked up Michael Isaacson's composition, recently published
by Transcontinental Music. I might like it, I thought, but I cer-
tainly would never use it in place of "my" Psalm 23! What a lovely
surprise was in store for me.

Michael Isaacson has added one more inspired setting of this
famous text to the rich literature already available to u s. He speaks
with a fresh voice, but a knowing one. The text is beautifully set,
moving from a recitative-like beginning to a lyrical, loving, even
romantic middle section for the setting of: Gam ki eileich begei
tsalmavet. The lyricism of these phrases becomes deeper, more
intense and compellingly passionate at: Taaroch lefanai shulchan
neged tsorerai. The climax of the piece is reached as it turns
suddenly delicate and sweetly intimate at: Kosi revaya. The psalm
closes, again with recitative-like phrases, in repose and achieved
tranquility.

From a vocal point of view, Mr. Isaacson has given us an ex-
tremely singable composition. It has a contemporary sound and yet,
the vocal line is grateful. From a technical point of view it is a
pleasure; from an emotional point of view it is exciting and inspiring
to perform.

The composer relies heavily on the structures and dissonances
often associated with jazz, in constantly moving referential sonorities
that may seem reminiscent of Leonard Bernstein's work. But where-
as some of the contemporary harmonic vocabulary is the same,
Isaacson is original, creative, and authentic. I, for one, prefer his
more lyrical moments — he has a real gift for them — for the wed-
ding of the text to beautiful melody. His more dissonant, tension-
filled phrases, however, have clear intent and appropriate effect.
The overall impression is one of great beauty and style, and is
deeply moving. Michael Isaacson's Psalm 23 is a most welcome
addition to the repertoire: a "new" setting with all of the "old"
values : singability, appropriate treatment of the text, inspiration,
and musical beauty.

Sarah Sager
Sarah Sager is a graduate of the School of Sacred Music of Hebrew Union
College and serves as Cantor of a Reform congregation in Merrick, New York.