Jewish Music:
An International Odyssey
Jews have wandered
the world over, and sometimes all that wandering gets packed into one song.
By Aviya Kushner
This article, originally written for the AVI
CHAI Bookshelf, where birthright israel alumni can order free books and
periodicals, tracks the multinational influence on Jewish music, creating
unique sounds reflecting the diversity of the Jewish people.
Spend an hour turning the radio dial in Israel, or attend a
Jewish music festival anywhere in the world, and you'll quickly realize that
all the moving around the Jewish people have done over the past few thousand
years has definitely seeped into the music. Performers freely mix languages and
traditions, just as they mix Biblical references with snippets from their love
lives. A blend of Greek, Polish, and Italian is par for the course, as is a
medieval poem written by a rabbi, accompanied by electric guitar and drums.
Jewish music, like the Jewish people, spans the globe and the centuries, and
sometimes all that wandering is packed into one song.
What is Jewish Music?
But what is "Jewish" music, anyway? Generally,
it's divided into three categories: Ashkenazic, or European music like
Klezmer; Sephardic, which means Mediterranean music from Spain,
Portugal, North Africa, Greece, and Turkey; and Mizrachi, which is the
music of Jews who lived in Arab countries for thousands of years. What's
exciting about today's Jewish music is how much those three categories blur,
especially if you're listening to Israeli pop or musicians who draw from their
fascinating personal backgrounds. They include the descendants of Marranos
or conversos (those who converted
rather than be exiled from Spain), the children of Sephardic-Ashkenazic
marriages, and rockers who returned to their Jewish roots once they hit 50.
One thing that seems to unite these contemporary performers
is their willingness to reinterpret ignored, under-appreciated, or forgotten
music. That's how Klezmer music, what grandparents used to listen to, has
experienced a huge revival worldwide, especially in unexpected places. These
days, in New Orleans, twenty-something bar-hoppers rock to the New Orleans
Klezmer Allstars, who manage to make wedding music sound funky. The band
was called "genre-crossing" and "nutty" by Billboard,
and the Village Voice labeled them "easily the funniest and wildest
of the new wave." Meanwhile, "KlezFests," which attract hundreds
of eager Klezmer fans, are held regularly in St. Petersburg and London.
The Jewish Music WebCenter, at www.jmwc.org,
maintains a list of upcoming world Jewish music events, and for devoted Klezmer
fans, www.yiddishsong.org has an
online sound archive dating back to 1915, which is a treasure trove.
Klezmer isn't the only genre that's benefiting from a new
image. Mizrachi music, which was once called "bus station
music" because you bought tapes of it at the sketchy old bus station in
Tel Aviv, is now mainstream radio fare and slowly moving upscale. In America,
where fans gleefully stock up on Mizrachi CDs, the organization Ivri-Nasawi
promotes Mizrachi music and literature at http://www.ivri-nasawi.org, and the
group has branches in NY, LA, and San Francisco.
A CD of Jewish World Music
A good introduction to the wide world of Jewish music is
"A Jewish
Odyssey," a release from Putumayo
World Music. The CD includes music from Chile, Brazil, Turkey, and Italy,
along with Israel, America, and Canada, and it has plenty of useful artist
information. "Odyssey" starts off with a haunting Yiddish melody sung
by Israeli legend Chava Alberstein, called "Di Goldene Pave,"
or the golden peacock. The lyrics are actually a Yiddish poem written by Anna
Margolin, a Russian-born radical who moved to America around the turn of the
century, and her words set the stage for the CD's globetrotting. Next, there's
"Rad Halaila," about the strength of the night, from the
British band. It's based on a traditional Hasidic melody that might be familiar
if you're a frequent wedding or bar-mitzvah attendee.
Then the CD gets to something so unusual and so moving, that
it seems to encompass the entire Jewish people and its travels--the song "Fel
Shara" by the Italian group KlezRoym. Singer Eva Coen actually
sings in five languages: Ladino, Italian, French, English, and Arabic, all in
one song. Her delicate, haunting voice reinterprets an old Sephardic love song,
but its mix of Eastern European and Mizrachi influences shows how the Spanish
Jews who fled the Inquisition absorbed the music of their new homes. Italy,
which is Europe's oldest Jewish community, now has a crop of young Jewish
musicians who weave the already multi-layered Jewish song with Italian folk
music, plus jazz and cabaret.
Listening to Coen, I could imagine the Jewish traveler of
medieval times, trying to blend in to a new culture while still dealing with
the usual human concerns of love and loss.
The CD also includes a fabulous Ofra Haza selection, "Rachamim,"
which uses the words of Israeli poet Natan Alterman. It describes a woman
walking down the street who is ogled by all the men of the neighborhood, but
all she wants is "Rachamim," which is a man's name that also
means "mercy." Haza sings for both – for mercy and for the man she
loves, all at the same time. In the song, I could hear Shechunat HaTikva,
or the neighborhood of hope in South Tel Aviv where the singer grew up, still a
place where local guys flirt shamelessly and Mizrachi music blares.
After the Italian masterpiece, I was eager to hear more
Jewish music from unexpected sources. The CD delivered with a Turkish song from
the husband-wife team Janet and Jak Esim, called "Ija Mia Mi Kerida."
Because about one-third of the Jews who fled Spain settled in Constantinople,
Jewish music thrived in Turkey. Since so many Turkish Jews have left for
Israel, that musical scene is mostly gone, but the Esims have painstakingly
tried to preserve it, recording aging singers and learning their songs.
A Vision of True Peace
I heard Spanish Jewry's painful escape as a thread running
through much of the exotic, blended sound of today's Jewish music. While some
Spanish Jews fled to Turkey, many fled to Mexico and South America. Consuelo
Luz, featured on the CD, sings the Spanish "Las Estreyas" or
"The Stars," which was a popular love ballad in Spain before the
Inquisition. Born in Chile, and descended from a famous converso, she now lives
and sings in New Mexico, the destination of some Spanish Jews in the 1500s.
Without planning to, Luz returned to her Spanish-Jewish roots by settling in
the Southwest.
The big story now is what will happen when the Sephardic
music carried by Spanish Jews and transported throughout the world hits Israel
in big numbers with the increasing aliyah (emigration to Israel) from
South American countries. For a hint of what's to come, the Brazilian singer
Fortuna takes on "Shalom Aleichem" in Hebrew. Fortuna
interprets the song's promise of peace as a remembrance of the way things were
before the Jews were kicked out of Spain, a time when Christians, Jews, and
Arabs lived together.
Although many Jewish songs from various centuries sing of
pain, poverty, and exile, the musicians are always willing to hope for joy and
in every language, they often return to a vision of true peace.
Aviya Kushner is a writer and a poet currently pursuing a
Master of Fine Arts at the University of Iowa. She can be reached at AviyaK@aol.com. This article was reprinted
with permission from the AVI
CHAI Bookshelf, where birthright israel alumni can order free books and
periodicals.